


Of Brothers and Boyfriends

by Amuly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Biting, Blow Jobs, Clothing Kink, Coitus Interruptus, Cuddling and Snuggling, Drunkenness, Fights, Flirting, Fluff, Frottage, Hair, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Licking, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly





	1. Prologue

Pain lanced through Sirius' hand as knuckles split and bruised. Such pain was bound to be expected, with him throwing his fist as hard as he could into James Potter's ignorant, bigoted, stupid face.

“You stupid fucking berk!” James was launching himself at Sirius, now, tackling his so-called brother to the ground. Sirius rolled as he fell, hauling himself on top of James and proceeding to bludgeon the living shit out of his stupid face. Some good those oft-proclaimed “seeker reflexes” were doing him now.

In the back corner of his awareness, Sirius heard Remus cry out. A shudder went through his system – his entire body protesting the fact that he wasn't rushing to Remus' side at the first sign of distress. But James – _stupid, arsehole, buggering fucking piece of shit gonnakillhim, ripouthismangy, grass-eating throat_ – was below him, shouting and swearing and trying to fight back, to defend himself. The white-hot rage Sirius was feeling cut through his Remus-inclined instincts, prompting him to stay and give Potter the beating of a lifetime.

In the next moment – not before Sirius had managed to get in a few more solid hits, splitting James' lip and puffing up both his eyes already – Remus was at his back, arms wrapped around his shoulders, hands shoved up under Sirius' armpits and trying to haul him off. Peter was there, too: shoving himself between Sirius and James, and getting hit by both parties for his trouble. Still, to his credit Peter refused to budge, throwing his weight around until Remus had Sirius across the room and James was staying down, glaring daggers.

“Should have figured you'd hit like a poof!”

Sirius made to lunge again at James, only his fear of injuring Remus, who was wrapped tight around Sirius' back, staying his feet and fists. “Fucked you up enough, didn't I?” Sirius scoffed and laughed, throwing a condescending, patented Black look at James from across the room. “Or is that what all this is about, Potter? Jealous I chose Moony over you to fuck?”

James practically growled from his prone position on the floor, lip splitting further as he did, more blood dribbling down his chin and onto his school shirt in thick, red blots. “You sick, buggering-”

“Because that's not it, you know,” Sirius continued, contempt dripping from his every word as he stared from the bottoms of his eyes at James. “You were my brother, Prongs.” He leaned forward, tugging slightly at Remus as he did so. Sirius slapped his hand to his bare chest. “My _brother_. Don't you get that, you thick idiot? And _brothers_ protect each other. They support each other. They don't go attacking each other just because they found them in bed with another bloke.”

His hand dropped from his chest as Remus continued to clutch at his arms. Defiantly he pulled Remus into a hug, made awkward by the way Remus was still clutching at him, acting as if Sirius might start forward and attack James again any minute.

“We weren't even fucking or anything,” Sirius grumbled, shaking his head at the sheer stupidity of James. “We were just sleeping in the same bed. One of us might have had a nightmare. Or been cold. _You_ were the one who jumped to conclusions first.”

“You were _naked_!” James screeched, face gone an unattractive, blotchy red. Spittle flew from his mouth as he clutched at Peter – though if he was trying to move past him or just anchor himself to someone else, Sirius couldn't tell the difference. “Your fucking _bits_ were... were...”

“Better than seeing my cock up Remus' arse, innit?”

At that, James let out an inhuman screech, all rage and impotency, fists flying down to the wood floors and pounding against them. Remus tugged at Sirius, pulling him back, back to the door and stairs. He was shoving clothes in Sirius’ hands too: his school uniform and robes. “Sirius. Sirius, stop it. Don't...”

But Sirius ignored Remus' warnings, even as he allowed himself to be dragged away from James. The disgust oozing from James' every pore just egged him on. “That's right. We've done _everything_. And we've been doing it for _years_.” The soothing tones of Remus' “reasonable” voice failed to penetrate any level of consciousness in Sirius' brain. “I've sucked his cock, James. Swallowed down his come, shoved my tongue up his arse and ate him out. I've had every inch of his skin in my mouth: balls, nipples, tongue, fingers. _And we fucking loved it, James. You hear that?!_ ” Remus was practically shoving him down the stairs and into his shirt as Sirius tried to lean past his boyfriend, eyes seeking a few last glimpses of James' horrified face. “We both fucking loved it! And we're going to keep shagging, so you can just go shove your head between some bird's legs, you piece of shit, Prongs! Shove your head down there, and I hope you fucking suffocate!”

When he looked back on it, Sirius couldn't recall how Remus got him dressed and down the stairs. He couldn’t remember the journey out of the common room, though he imagined there were whispers, and hushed tones, and unsubtle finger-pointing and staring. But he couldn't remember what faces they passed as they stepped out of the portrait hole, or if they saw any teachers or students in the hallways as Remus dragged him out, out, out of the castle, across the grounds, and under the bare branches of their favorite tree next to the lake. Sirius couldn't remember starting to cry – whether the tears began in the hallways, or if the sobs started as they broke free of the castle and stepped into cold, fresh air, or if he started clutching to Remus for support rather than restraint by the time they stumbled those last few steps to their tree. But he did remember finding himself sobbing harshly into Remus' robes, fingers clutching at the thick material as his hot tears dripped down.

“'m sorry. Sorry, Moony. S-s-sor...”

Remus' hand was at his back, smoothing soothing lines up and down as Sirius tried to apologize, tried to explain.

“I know, Sirius. It's okay.” Sirius started crying harder at that, and felt Remus' arms pull him in closer, hold him tighter. “James'll come 'round. You'll see.”

Sirius pulled back, soaking face and bleary, scratchy eyes staring into Remus' face as though it held the answers. “Really?”

“Well...” Remus' expression pulled into a tight smile, as if he was trying to be cheerfully witty but couldn't quite manage it. “Everything you said might not've helped the healing process. James would've probably come around a bit faster if he hadn't heard about you rimming me, if I'm honest.”

That made Sirius laugh, which made him choke, which made him just start crying even harder than he had before. He heard Remus sigh before he found himself being pulled into the other boy's chest again. This time one hand smoothed at his back, while the other carded gently through his hair. In increments, Sirius relaxed. He wasn't sure if it was Padfoot or him, but Remus' fingers in his hair always calmed him. Even now.

Minutes, or hours, later, Sirius had calmed down enough to snuggle against Remus, fingers plucking at the other boy's hands. They lay back on the cold ground, Remus on his back, Sirius on his side, half lying on top of Remus. It was bloody freezing out, but for some reason the temperature didn't seem to matter much to Sirius with Remus snuggled up close against him. The sound of footsteps reached his ears, prompting him to open his eyes and snap his head up from where it was resting on Remus' chest. The source of the footsteps was Peter, who was trudging toward them with an awkwardly pained look on his face.

“'lo.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes, fingers curling tight around Remus' hand. He was ready for a fight, if Peter had the balls to start one.

“Just to start,” Peter pulled his shoulders up tight to his ears, hands shoved into his robes' pockets, “I don't have a problem with it. James' being a right twat, if you ask me.” Peter kicked at an imaginary pebble at the ground, scuffing his shoes in the frozen dirt. “No one ever does ask me, mind you, but there it is. Long as you blokes aren't looking for some sort of poofy... threesome... thing... you can do whatever you like together. At night. You know, with the curtains drawn. And silencing spells up, and all that.”

Sirius hauled himself to his feet, ignoring the way Remus' fingers looked like they were itching to reach out and stop whatever ridiculous reaction he thought Sirius might have. With what Sirius hoped was a manly grunt, he clasped his hand to Peter's shoulder, holding it there as the other boy flinched, then realized Sirius wasn't about to deck him. “Thanks, Pete. That's good on you.”

Peter nodded, shrugging again as Sirius released his shoulder. “Don't see what's got into Prongs. Not like it should matter to us if you guys like a cock up the arse.” Peter made a lewd gesture with his thumb and fist, prompting a series of snorts from Sirius and Remus, the latter of whom stood up then, brushing dead grass and dirt off his robes.

“For the record,” Sirius jerked a thumb at Remus, “he's the one that likes the cock up his arse.”

Remus, elegant and dry as always, arched a wicked eyebrow at Sirius. “Don't act like you've never been on the _receiving_ end.” He turned the focus of his wry expression to Peter. “And trust me, Sirius can beg for it like a whiney, cockslut bottom, under the right circumstances.”

Peter's entire body seemed to turn red, as he whimpered and covered his face with his hands. Sirius felt similarly, but the way Remus was looking at him – all lusty, and out of the corner of his eye – made Sirius' embarrassment quickly subside into a quiet thrum of arousal. They'd have to do something about that. Later.

“Bloody hell, lads,” Peter grumbled, voice muffled behind his hands. “Like I said: at night, behind drawn curtains, with silencing spells. I don't need to hear about _any_ of it. I've already heard more than I ever want to know.”

The three boys' laughter faded away slowly, leaving an awkward silence hanging in the air between them, one person's name filling it.

“So,” Remus glanced at Peter. “He's...”

“Yeah.” Chin up, Peter nodded back at the castle. “I _did_ tell him he was being a right arse, after you blokes left. And that he could jog on if he thought I'd stop talking to you two, just because he's some homophobe twat.”

Sirius was honestly impressed with Peter, and he let a bit of the emotion show on his face as he punched Peter affectionately on the arm. “Thanks, Wormtail. You're a right mate, you are.”

Peter waved a hand dismissively. Sirius' respect for Peter turned up a notch in that moment. _Good on him_.

“Well, I was going to try and grab some breakfast before class.” Peter tossed a thumb over his shoulder, back at the castle. “You going to...”

Wiping at his face and smoothing at his hair, Sirius turned questioningly to Remus, who smiled softly and lifted a hand to wipe at the wet spots Sirius had missed on his cheeks. “No point in going hungry just because you're fighting with James, right?” he questioned Sirius.

Sirius nodded, hands automatically going to smooth Remus' robes from where he had wrinkled it. When he turned back around, he caught Peter looking slightly uncomfortable. “Wow, you guys really are poofs, huh?”

Sirius held up a fist jokingly. “Oi! That's a derogatory word, that is.”

The laughter, though not exactly easy, wasn't forced as they made their way to the castle. It gave Sirius hope for how James might react, given a day or two to adjust. There was no way the sodding git could stay fighting with Sirius much longer than that. Sirius was sure of it. Especially if even Pete wasn't backing him.

Just before they entered the Great Hall, Sirius' hand shot out and squeezed at Remus', quick and subtle. Remus squeezed back, offering Sirius a supportive smile. Their hands separated, dropping to their sides as they entered the Great Hall together.

Sirius' eyes went immediately to James, who was sitting on the far side of the Gryffindor table, as far as possible from where they normally sat. Sirius sat with Remus in their normal place, doing his best to ignore the whispers and murmurs that spread down the table like an _i_ _ncendio_ in a parchment factory. Everyone knew the Marauders all sat together, every day, for every meal. James' change in seating was immediately noticeable to every Gryffindor, and quite a few of the other houses' students as well.

Peter hesitated, glancing down the table at James, then at his normal seat, unoccupied and waiting for him. He nodded at Sirius and Remus. “Let me talk to him for a mo', see if I can't get him to stop being a git.”

Remus smiled up at Peter gratefully as he sank down onto the bench. “Perhaps phrase it a touch more delicately?”

Peter just waved his hands dismissively, starting down the table toward James. As they started to eat, Sirius purposefully sat too-close to Remus, pressing their thighs together. A minute into their meal, just as Sirius was shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth, Peter came back to them, sliding onto the bench and sighing heavily. Sirius, not usually one to wait, tried staying silent for a full fifteen seconds as Peter piled his plate high with food. Finally, unable to take it any longer, Sirius shoved at Peter, jabbing his fork nearly into the other boy's face. “Well?”

Peter shrugged. “He's still being a git. What do you want?”

A growl rose from Sirius' throat. “For the arsehole to apologize. Who the fuck does he think he is?” He started to rise from his seat until a hand on his wrist stopped him, yanking him back down. Sirius glared at the owner of that hand – Remus, of course – malice softening into concern as he saw Remus' eyebrows drawn tight together, entire countenance tense. In deference to Remus, Sirius sank slowly back down onto the bench, but not before flicking two fingers as James and glaring daggers at him. He kept his thigh and arm pressed tightly to Remus the entire meal, pointedly not looking at James even once.

When they stood to leave, Sirius realized the four of them were all heading for the same class: Transfiguration. And after that, they had Defense Against the Dark Arts together. Then lunch, where they would be in the same room again, and then, only _after_ lunch, would they be separated from each other: Remus in Arithmancy, James at Quidditch practice, and Sirius and Peter in Muggle Studies. The Marauders did almost everything together – not just mealtimes and sleeping in the same room, but classes and recreation and studying and... _everything_.

It was going to be a long day.

**

In transfiguration class, McGonagall had raised a prim eyebrow when James had stormed in and pushed his way to the front, uprooting Frank from his seat in an attempt to position himself as far as possible from the other three Marauders. Peter had pushed his way up to follow James, leaning on the desk as he spoke over James' shoulder. A series of violent head shakes and hand gestures later, and Peter was walking back to Sirius and Remus, taking his usual seat in the back of the class.

“Well?”

Peter snorted at Sirius' question, shrugging his shoulders exasperatedly. “He's still not over it; what did you think?”

McGonagall was turned to the board, writing a new transfiguration spell on the board as the last few members of the class scurried in and got settled. “I'd _think_ he'd pull his head out of his _arse_ and-”

Remus cut him off with a hand to his wrist. He turned to Peter, teeth chewing nervously on his lower lip. “What did James say, exactly?”

Peter's eyes were downcast, countenance visibly reluctant. “It wasn't nice, Moony. You can imagine.”

Sirius' heart twisted in his chest as he watched Remus' sad, brown eyes flicker the front of the room, then back to Peter. With _everything_ Remus had suffered through, everything he did for the Marauders and put up with, James was really going to act like this? Just because he liked a bit of cock now and again?

Sirius was going to kill James if he didn't get over this right quick. Not for his own sake, but for Remus'.

“Please, Peter?”

Scrubbing the back of his head, Peter leaned in, lowering his voice as McGonagall began to call the class to order. “He said that one or the both of you... you know... 'poofters'... better be out of the dorm by tonight. Otherwise he'd be taking it to Dumbledore. He said he didn't want to sleep in the same room with... uh... the gay. Ness.”

The blood in Sirius' veins turned to ice as he considered the inevitable confrontation that would occur in a few short hours, once they were all back in the dorms. But he affected an air of nonchalance, snorting derisively and pushing long hair from his eyes. “Shows what James knows. Old Dumbles doesn't exactly seem like the type for homophobic tendencies, does he, Moony?”

But Remus' face had gone white, the other boy unable to hide his fears as quickly as Sirius had. “He's got a point, Sirius,” he whispered. “The girls and boys are separated for a _reason_ , after all. Maybe... maybe we should go to McGonagall or Dumbledore: discuss some sort of rearrangement.”

“No!”

McGonagall – and the entire sixth year Transfiguration class – turned to look at Sirius. “Is there a problem, Mr. Black?”

Ignoring James' sneering, stupid face, Sirius shook his head as contritely as he could manage. “No. Sorry, Professor.”

Apparently persuaded by Sirius' honest expression, McGonagall nodded and turned back to the class, continuing her lecture.

“No,” Sirius continued, more hushed, “Don't be ridiculous, Remus. We can get through this. If James, or you or I, goes and gets transferred to a different dorm room, then we'll never have to fix this. And we're _going_ to fix this.”

As Sirius stared into his friends' eyes – Remus' baleful, Peter's unconvinced – he felt a shiver of fear go through him.

He wasn't going to let this tear them apart. That twat James was just going to have to come around. Whether he liked to or not. And hopefully, before tonight.

**

Defense Against the Dark Arts went exactly the same as Transfiguration had: James racing ahead of the three of them and sitting at the front of the classroom, and Peter trying to reason with him once more before coming to the back of the classroom with Remus and Sirius.

Throughout the class, Sirius couldn't concentrate on a single thing the professor was saying, nor could he stop his leg from jiggling with nerves until Remus slipped a hand under the table and rested it on his thigh. Sirius' entire body felt tiny, tight: like he had been squeezed into a person half his size. He couldn't figure out _what_ they were going to do about their sleeping situation tonight, or how far James would go in his – Sirius swallowed hard against the burning sensation of anger and loss – _disgust_ for Sirius and Remus' relationship. Would he really request a transfer of some sort? Would he out Sirius and Remus to the whole school? Would he do something _worse_?

Sirius shuddered. A day ago, he would have said James was incapable of true, unadulterated cruelty. Even their assaults on Snivellus had lessened, especially since the Prank. But now, seeing that expression on James' face... Sirius wasn't so sure. It was something he had _never_ seen on James' face before: all raw hatred and consuming disgust. He wasn't sure what James might be capable of with those strong of emotions moving through his veins.

After nearly two straight hours of worrying during Defense Against the Dark Arts, it was all Sirius could do to mouth unenthusiastically at his food, gnawing more on his fork for the duration of lunch than anything edible. James was way down, at the end of the table again. Peter had opted to sit with him – saying something about showing support maybe helping in him coming 'round. Sirius doubted it, but Remus had seemed hopeful, so he let Peter try to play moderator with little criticism.

Remus' entire body was tense, tight, as he sat beside Sirius and ate steadily. Overcome by the urge to take care of Remus – to hold him and touch him and reassure him that everything would be just fine – Sirius stood abruptly, nodding at the doors. “Done?”

Letting his fork clatter to his plate with none of his usual care, Remus stood and followed Sirius out. There were some noises audible over the din of eating and chatting students down at James' end of the table, but Sirius ignored them.

Outside the Great Hall, Sirius tugged Remus into an alcove, fingertips brushing gently against Remus' wrist. They stood there, partially hidden from the world, for a moment in silence. Sirius' gaze was focused on Remus' hands, frustration silently welling up in him over the fact that he couldn't hold them, or squeeze them, or even just rest his hand over Remus' in public. And now – now they'd have to be extra careful to avoid accidental contact, lest James fly into a rage.

Remus' wrist pressed into Sirius' fingertips, bringing him out of his reverie and his eyes up to Remus' face. The other boy was smiling tightly: one of those sad smiles that didn't reach his eyes; the kind he used to get back before their animagus transformation, when they'd see him off to Madam Pomfrey once a month. Sirius had hated it then, and resolved to do something so he would never have to see that sad, brave smile again. And for a few years, it had worked. But now it was back. And it was all because of that tosser James.

“Maybe Quidditch practice'll help.” Remus offered, though the bland way he said it told Sirius that he didn't believe it at all. “Burn off some of his anger. Then we can sit down after dinner and have a proper chat.”

Sirius lifted one shoulder and dropped it, eyes slipping back down to Remus' hand. He inched closer – not close enough to seem inappropriate to the casual observer, but enough that the edge to Remus' shoulders lessened, and his body leaned ever so slightly into Sirius'.

“He'll come 'round. He just needs a bit.”

Incapable of standing idly by when Remus' voice was so soft and kind, Sirius allowed his fingers to slip around Remus' wrist and tug him close. Glancing around furtively just once, Sirius leaned in and pecked Remus on the lips, who returned the quick kiss immediately, already expecting it.

“Fucking poofters.”

Sirius' fists were flying before he even knew what he was doing, entire body reacting viscerally to the disgust in James' voice. James was standing there, all smug hatred and pathetic disgust as he appeared to be relishing the impending fight. Before even Remus could stop him, Peter was there, shoving himself between James and Sirius, and taking a fist in either shoulder for his troubles.

“Fucking hell,” Sirius heard him grumble under his breath, as the shorter boy threw his weight around, pushing his arms out and turning to James. “Go to Quidditch.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows, impressed with Peter's stones. The blonde member of the Marauders rarely stood up to any of them, and to stand up to _James_ , Peter's hero... Sirius didn't think that had ever happened in their six years at Hogwarts.

James was apparently unconvinced by Peter's bravado. “Standing up for the poofters again are you, Wormy? Looking to get your rocks off; hoping they'll oblige?”

Again surprising Sirius with his conviction, Peter tossed his head back almost haughtily, staring down James even though he was a good eight centimeters shorter. “I'm not the one acting like a jealous bastard here, James. Now get to Quidditch.” Without waiting for James' acknowledgement – another first for Peter, in Sirius' book – Peter turned to Sirius. “Come on. If we're late for Muggle Studies again we've both got detention.”

With another grumble and a practically shouted “poofters”, James shoved off from the alcove, storming away toward the Quidditch fields. Sirius clasped Peter on the shoulder, looking him square in the eyes. “Thanks, mate. You've been bloody brilliant.”

Peter just shrugged the hand off, though he seemed to be hiding a smile at Sirius' praise. “James is just acting like a right arse. Not hard to be brilliant compared to that.” He glanced at his watch, raising his eyebrows significantly. “Now come on, or we really _will_ be late to Muggle Studies.”

Sirius turned to Remus one last time, giving his hand a quick squeeze. The corridor was starting to fill with students hurrying from lunch to class, so there wasn't any chance of sharing another kiss. The two boys had to settle for making eyes at each other, before heading off in opposite directions: Remus to Arithmancy, Peter and Sirius to Muggle Studies.

As they walked, Sirius noticed Peter's eyes were turned down, his face a bit red. Nudging him in the shoulder, Sirius asked “What?”

Peter's face turned a bit redder at that, as he avoided Sirius' searching gaze. “Nothing. Just take some getting used to.” He immediately rushed on, eyes wide and hands held up defensively. “I mean, I'm not going to be an arse about it like James, it's just a bit... weird, yeah? I mean, you two are all loved-up, and I've never seen it before. Not like _that_ , at least.” Peter winced, face gone all frowny and pleading. “Sorry, mate. I don't mean anything by it.”

Sirius laughed, slapping Peter hard on the back. “'s'all right, Wormtail. I'd probably be suspicious of your own leanings if it didn't make you squirm just a bit.” Sirius' good humor cooled rapidly, as he continued: “Like you said: not like you're acting like James.”

“He'll come around.” Peter patted Sirius awkwardly on the elbow. “You'll see.”

“Yeah,” Sirius grumbled. “We'll see.”

**

Sirius' cuticles were bloody from picking at them by the time it was gone five. He was waiting outside Remus' Ancient Runes classroom, crouching against the far wall and _picking picking picking_ at his fingers. His eyes followed every student that moved down the hallway, checking for James as he glanced at each of their faces. He kept an eye out for empty spaces, as well: gaps in the hallway that could be filled by a young man under an invisibility cloak, accidently brushing a tapestry or scraping his shoes against the ground.

Wetness seeped into his socks. Sirius glanced down. His fingers were bleeding all over the place. “Shit.”

“Sirius...” The gentle sigh of his name was spoken by Remus, standing above him and staring down mournfully. “What have you done now?”

Sirius allowed Remus to guide him to his feet with a gentle hand to his wrist, gazing up at his concerned face. “Sorry. I wanted to walk you to dinner.”

“Padfoot-”

“Listen, I just...” seeing a group of first years looking at them curiously, Sirius snatched his hand away from Remus'. “I just dunno what James'll do.”

“You don't honestly believe James would-”

“I don't know!” Sirius made to run his hands through his hair, only to have his torn cuticles ripped further when they caught on individual strands. Wincing, he let his hands drop to his sides. “It's just-”

“Oh, for Merlin's sake, Sirius. Come here.” Remus led them over to a bench, pulling them down onto it and his wand out, before yanking Sirius' hands into his lap. Sirius glanced around, before realizing that such a sight was probably common for the Hogwart's students, and letting Remus continue on.

“It's just,” he continued, “we _know_ what James is capable of. We've done it to Snivellus, after all.”

“Yeah, well,” Remus muttered as magic flowed from his wand and over Sirius' fingers, “I know what _you're_ capable of when it comes to Snivellus. James honestly seems like the lesser of two evils.”

“Remus-”

“I'm over it, Sirius.” Remus' eyes were sad, but not accusatory, as he stared up at Sirius. “It's done.”

Taking the coward's way out, Sirius yanked Remus to his feet with his newly-mended hands and turned back to his previous subject of discussion as they continued to the Great Hall for dinner. “I've just never seen James look like that: like he did when he saw us, this morning. Maybe when Snivellus would insult Lily, but never...” Sirius leaned into Remus as much as he dared. The more crowded the hallways became the closer they got to the Great Hall, the easier it was to pass off closeness for casual friendliness. “He was _disgusted_ , Moony. Disgusted and absolutely off his head furious.”

Remus' fingertips brushed Sirius' a moment before they entered the Great Hall. Immediately Sirius' eyes scanned the Gryffindor table, only to find James at the far end, and Peter at the opposite end, in their usual spot. Resignedly, Sirius made his way over to Peter.

“I've never seen him like this,” Sirius repeated as they slid into their seats. “And since I've never seen him like this, I dunno _what_ he might do.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he speared a potato and proceeded to shove it in his mouth. “Hef nuf godda fo afyfig.”

Remus' eyes shot up into his hairline as they waited for Peter to stop chewing. After a rather large swallow and a swig of water, Peter repeated himself. “He's not gonna do anything. This is James we're talking about, after all. Prongs! He's being a right berk, but he's still _James_.”

Next to Sirius, Remus nodded in agreement. Sirius wasn't so sure he could join in with the other boys' confidence in James' rationality just yet.

**

Sirius wanted to hold hands as they entered their dorm room that night, but Remus insisted that it would be smarter to not instigate James at this point. He had also had to remind Sirius that him and James _were_ best friends – “Not any more.” “ _Sirius_.” – and that Sirius should really just try to be the better man while this ran its course.

Sirius' fingers brushed Remus' as they followed Peter up the stairwell. “ _This_ is why I don't get James.”

“What?”

Sirius nudged Remus. “You always make me better. Tell me when I'm being a stupid berk, and try to make me do the right thing.”

Remus blushed and glanced down at their feet moving over the stone steps, light brown fringe of hair falling in his eyes. “Pads-”

“You know it's true,” Sirius insisted.

Sirius came to a stop, Remus doing the same next to him. They were outside of their dorm room, now. The door had never seemed so solid and foreboding.

In front of them both, Peter hung on the door handle, looking back at them for approval. “Ready?”

“Hang on.” It was Remus who spoke, causing Sirius to turn to him curiously. To his great surprise, he found himself pulled into a passionate kiss, all fear and desperation, Remus' hands curling through his hair. In the corner of his mind, Sirius registered a nervous squeak coming from Peter, but ignored it in favor of kissing Remus back. He couldn't reassure Remus with his kiss – not when he was as scared as the other boy – but they could try to find some comfort in knowing the other was still there.

When Remus pulled away, all panting mouth and wide eyes, Sirius nuzzled his nose, rolling their foreheads together one last time before pulling away, wiping a hand over his mouth and one through his hair. He turned to Peter, who was bright red and staring resolutely at the stairwell.

“Sorry, Pete,” Remus apologized, “just needed to, one last time...”

Peter waved a spastic hand. “Fine, fine. Good? We're... you're good?”

Sirius nodded decisively at Peter, glancing over at Remus who was staring determinedly ahead. “Let's get this over with.”

When the three of them stepped into the dorm room together, Sirius' eyes immediately went to James' bed. The curtains were open, the tousle-haired boy sitting with a Quidditch magazine in his lap, cross-legged against his headboard. His head turned toward the door as it swung open, eyes flashed behind his glasses. “Bringing the poofters to bed, are we, Wormy?”

“Piss off, James,” Peter shot back. He immediately went to his trunk, digging through it for a pair of pajamas before heading off to the bathroom to complete his evening ablutions.

James called out after him: “Good idea, Wormtail! Wouldn't want to change in front of the poofters. Gayboys might sneak up behind you, try to stick it in your arse. And with yours being so plump, I bet Black and Lupin are gagging for a go.”

Peter casually flipped two fingers over his shoulder before slamming the bathroom door shut.

Taking both Remus' and Peter's advice to heart, Sirius tried to slink away to his bed, not sparing either Remus or James a second glance as he dug through his trunk for his bedclothes. The fact that James' insults were going unnoticed didn't seem to deter him.

“What, no goodnight kiss for the fairies? Not even a goodnight cuddle?”

“You know,” Sirius spat, spinning around with his bedclothes in hand, “you're awfully interested in seeing us all loved up, Potter. What's all these insults from: jealousy? Looking to get your rocks off, Potter? Upset you didn't get your hooves into me before Moony did?”

“ _Sirius_.” Remus was at Sirius' side, not quite touching him, but using his body language to form a sort of shield between him and James. “Don't.”

With a derisive snort that was all centuries of Black inbreeding and no Gryffindor, Sirius stormed past James' bed and into the bathroom. Behind him, James called out: “Watch out Wormy, he's coming in!”

Five minutes later, teeth and face and pissing attended to, Sirius made his way out of the bathroom, not even bothering to avoid the loathing glare that James leveled at him. Sirius just met him, dirty look for dirty look, all the way to his bed. As he climbed in, he noticed that Remus had changed behind closed curtains, and was just now opening them to head to the bathroom and get ready. Sirius felt a sharp little pain go through his soul, like a needle stabbing beneath his fingernail. The Marauders always changed around each other, without a second thought. And now Remus had to hide behind his curtains, and him and Peter had to sneak away to the bathroom. It wasn't right.

Waiting until Remus came back, James – biggest arsehole this side of the Slytherin dungeon – couldn't let it rest just yet. “Oi, Pete: better put a sticking charm on your curtains tonight. Wouldn't want to wake up with Black's cock up your arse!”

Peter groaned, loudly, and shoved his pillow over his head. James apparently wasn't ready to lay off.

“And you better put up a silencing spell! I imagine the sound of two guys taking it up the arse would be loud enough to interrupt a good night's sleep! Especially since we know Lupin's a _howler_.”

“POTTER!” Sirius was out of his bed before he could even blink, rage roaring up within him worse than he had even felt, or even witnessed – and with his mother's sharp insanity and wild rages, he had witnessed quite a bit. He was at James' bed in a moment, throwing himself headfirst at the sneering boy. Midair, something struck his side, and he found himself being thrown at a ninety-degree angle to his trajectory, sliding across the floor until he hit the back wall of their room.

Remus stood, eyes bright and scared, with his wand pointed at Sirius.

“I'm sorry, Pads. Sorry...”

Sirius breathed deep as he felt the spell restraining him release, not moving as he stared up at Remus. He opened his mouth, hurt and anger rushing through his veins. How could Remus do that to him? He was just defending _him_ , against James' insults which tread the line _no_ Marauder ever dared. But then Sirius' gaze drifted down, and he noticed Remus' hand that was holding his wand shaking, wand rattling like a tree branch in a storm.

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius breathed. “I'm so-”

“You two poofters going to kiss and make up, now?”

To Sirius' great surprise, it was Remus who whirled on James. He pulled himself up to his full height – taller than anyone ever really took note of, because of how he always stooped over books or when they were walking to and from class. With a look of professorial disdain that McGonagall might even take notes on, Remus stared down at James. “You're pathetic, James. Using my lycanthropy to insult mine and Sirius' relationship. It's almost as low as Sirius went with the Prank.”

When a flicker of genuine human emotion appeared on James' face, Remus glanced between him and Sirius significantly.

“In fact,” Remus raised an eyebrow, all cool disgust and professorial disappointment, “I'd be hard-pressed to see much difference between the two, at the moment. Sirius,” instinctively Sirius snapped to attention, scrambling to his feet as Remus leveled an only slightly gentler look on him, “get to bed. And maybe you should take James' silencing charm advice,” he glanced back at James one last time, “I know I will, to drown out the dithering ignorance that keeps disturbing my attempts to fall asleep.”

Sirius scrambled into bed, feeling smug as he noted James' stunned expression. Him and James coming to blows was rare, but no unheard of thing. Even Peter taking the mickey, or just being a twat for a few days to James, wasn't _impossible_. But Remus getting _angry_ , insulting James and ordering them around: that was scary.

It was also really hot. Sirius rolled over and stared longingly at Remus' bed, where the other boy had already drawn his curtains. If only everyone still didn't know, Sirius would _definitely_ have visited Remus' bed tonight. As it was, Sirius wasn't sure if he was _ever_ going to get to visit Remus' bed again. Not until they were out of Hogwarts, if James kept up the way he was.

Sirius cast a silencing charm around his bed and drew the curtains, ignoring the way his eyes felt hot.

He loved Remus. But he wanted James back, too.


	2. Choice One

The slamming door to their bathroom startled Sirius out of his restless sleep. He awoke slowly, blinking and rubbing grit out of his eyes as he stared around the dorm room. James' bed was empty, while Remus and Peter were just waking in theirs. James was the one in the bathroom, then.

Sirius groaned. He had to use the loo.

Remus was grabbing for his robes and pulling out the books he needed for the day as he appeared to be dawdling, waiting for James to clear out of the shower. Peter, after a moment of hopping back and forth in front of his bed, sucked in a lungful of air and threw back his shoulders, before striding forward to their shared bathrooms. Sirius groaned, tightening his legs. If only he could do the same.

A half hour later, and Peter had managed to go through his entire morning routine, including loo, shower, and clothes. Now he was sitting on his bed, flipping through a Quidditch magazine as he pretended not to shoot nervous looks every couple of seconds between Remus and Sirius and the bathroom door, where James' shower was still running.

Cursing, Sirius started for the bathroom. Remus held out an arm to try and stop him, but it was half-hearted at best. Sirius brushed right by it and stormed his way into the bathroom, ignoring the showers and heading straight for the loo.

Release achieved, Sirius decided to continue on getting ready while he was here. He wasn't about to let James' twatish behavior make him miss breakfast. So Sirius grabbed a towel and headed for a shower, tugging the curtain shut behind him and turning on the water.

James' voice was loud enough to be audible over the spray of two showerheads. “Wormtail was already in here, so that's got to be one of the poofters.”

Sirius snarled as he lathered his arms. “You're fucking right it is!” he shouted back. “And this _poofter's_ been waiting on your dawdling arse all morning, so you can go stuff your insults and let me shower in peace.”

The other shower turned off, and Sirius listened carefully as he began to shampoo his hair. He kept his eyes open and focused on the shower curtain, head tilted back to keep the shampoo out of his eyes. He still wasn't sure exactly what James might be capable of when riled too far, but he was prepared for anything.

Bare feet slapped across the bathroom tiles, coming to rest just in front of Sirius' shower curtain. He waited, hands stilling in his hair, breath held, as the shower pounded down on his head. James' voice was lower, but no less audible, than before. “You better not come out when I'm still changing. Wouldn't want you to get all hot and bothered by the view of my arse.”

With a snarl Sirius snapped the shower off, ignoring the shampoo still dripping from his hair. He grabbed a towel off the bar in the shower and wrapped it around his waist, before stepping out of the shower. James was similarly dressed in a towel and nothing else besides his sneer and glasses, dark hair plastered down against his head in a rarely seen show of deference to James' attempts at taming it.

“You know what, Potter?” Reaching a hand out, Sirius shoved James against the nearest wall, watching with satisfaction as the sneer dropped off his face and was replaced by a look of shock. “Remus told me to play nice. Treat you right, be understanding, take the abuse. And I tried listening to him, Potter. I really did.” The way James' face turned red at the most glancing mention of Sirius and Remus' relationship just spurred him on, encouraging Sirius to greater heights of recklessness. He shook James a bit, rattling him around against the cold tile walls. James' glasses slipped down his face, pieces of hair starting to escape from where they were plastered against his head and sticking up in all directions. “But since you've decided to be such a fucking arse about all of this, I'm doing just how you wanted: I'm ignoring Remus.”

Sirius leaned close, reveling in the way James' entire body tried to flinch away from him, but had nowhere to go. Sirius pressed his lips up against James' ear. “It's _on_ , James Potter. If you're going to try and make Remus and mine's life a living hell, I'm happy to return the favor.”

With that, Sirius shoved himself off James, stalking away to the sinks where he tried to salvage his half-washed hair. He didn't even glance at James in the mirror as the other boy pulled himself together and stormed out, bathroom door slamming behind him. He could hear muffled shouts coming from the bedroom, words like “Poofters!” and “Assault!” reaching his ears, before another door slammed and an uneasy silence settled over the dorm room. Sirius stared resolutely in the mirror and brushed his teeth, ignoring the churning in his stomach and the rushing in his ears.

Less than a minute later, the door behind him opened. Sirius' eyes flickered up, meeting Remus' in the mirror. The other boy looked tired: brown hair poking up every which way, visible bags under his eyes, and a sort of ashen hue to his whole skin. Sirius dropped his gaze as he spit into the sink.

“Sirius-”

“Don't even start,” Sirius mumbled as he wiped his mouth on a towel. Sighing, he turned to face Remus, backs of his thighs against the sink and arms crossed over his chest. “He was the one who wouldn't drop it.”

“I know.” Remus grimaced at Sirius. “But whatever you said probably wasn't the most tactful way to put things.”

Sirius snorted. “Yeah, well, calling us names and forcing us to wait a half hour to use the loo isn't exactly tactful. Who knows,” Sirius pondered, “maybe a little bit of tactlessness is just what James needs to get all _this_ ,” he gestured between the two of them, “sorted in his thick skull.”

Remus shrugged, looking unconvinced. But he let the issue drop, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Speaking of the loo...”

Sirius sighed as Remus raced off to the toilets. He had no _clue_ what it would take for James to come around. But as it was, Sirius _wasn't_ about to let James run his and Remus' lives. James was his brother, sure: but that didn't mean he got to dictate who he loved. Not even Sirius' parents had succeeded at that – and Merlin knows they tried.

Sirius tossed his towel to the ground and went out to the dorm room to get dressed, shooting Remus a rakish wink that he didn't really feel on the way out. No, if push came to shove, and James kept acting like a twat, Sirius wasn't about to give up Remus. They had been together for _three years_. Their relationship had survived all sorts of Sirius' stupidity – including the incident-which-would-not-be-named. This wasn't some misplaced crush that Sirius was just going to throw away because his brother disapproved.

Sirius smiled more genuinely as Remus rushed out of the bathroom, hair dripping wet from a quick scrub down and throwing clothes onto himself like a madman. Sirius allowed himself to be dragged out of the room and down to breakfast by Remus, sneaking a quick kiss on the stairwell before they reached the common room. Remus smiled shakily back at him, books slipping in wet hands as they pushed their way through the morning crowd.

No, if it came down to it, Sirius wasn't giving up Remus for James. The stupid twat would just have to learn to accept the two of them.

The fact that Remus gave great head made Sirius' decision rest easier, too.

**

Remus and Sirius slipped quietly into their room late that night, shucking shoes, robes and books as they went. Out of habit Sirius headed for Remus' bed for a quick post-astronomy cuddle, pressing his hand gently to Remus' lower back as they tiptoed across the room.

Just as Sirius was following Remus into his bed and reaching for the curtains, the lights snapped on, and James' harsh voice filled the room. “And just what the _fuck_ do you two poofters think you're doing?”

Automatically Remus pushed Sirius away, curling up defensively in his bed. Sirius whirled around, seeking out James in a fit of rage. He was in his bed, looking like he had been sitting up and waiting on Remus and Sirius the whole night.

“And don't try and pull that old 'studying' excuse: we all _know_ what you were up to, now.”

On the other side of the commotion, Peter awoke with a groan, blonde hair pressed all to one side. “Aw, is that what you guys were doing all those times? Bloody hell...”

“Peter!” Sirius whirled on him, ready for a two-pronged attack, if necessary.

But Peter waved his hands sleepily, falling back against his pillows. “No. 's cool, you know. Just. Ew. Could have gone without knowing that.”

“'It's cool'?!” Sirius' attention was brought back around to James with the other boy's squeaked indignation. “Now I _know_ you're a poofter, Wormtail.”

“I'm not!”

“Then how the hell do you explain being okay with these two shoving their cock's up each other's arses not ten meters from where you sleep?”

In that moment, seeing the freaked-out look flash across Peter's face, Sirius felt for his fellow Marauder. He was ready to come to Peter's defense, but then the blonde-haired boy puffed out his chest and shook his head fiercely in James' direction. “They're boyfriends, James. It's what they do! If you ever manage to get with Lily, we won't go spare if she spends the night on occasion.”

Throughout all of this, Remus was staying silent, a huddled mass on his bed. Sirius glanced down at him, wincing. It was only three days before full, which meant the muscle cramps, aches, pains, and headaches were all starting up. And James was doing his damnedest to make sure Remus had a rough time of it.

Sirius wasn't about to stand for that. He came to a decision, climbing into bed with Remus even as his boyfriend scrambled under the sheets and protested. James started making terrible, horrified noises, like a pig caught in a blender. “Budge over, Remus.”

Remus' hands were shoving at Sirius, legs curled up tight to his chest as he tried to have the minimum contact between the two of them. James was shouting that he was going to call McGonagall, or Dumbledore, or out the two of them to the Slytherins. Peter was remaining strangely silent. When Sirius glanced over at his bed, he found Peter's curtains tightly shut and the last shimmers of a silencing spell dispersing around his bed. Smart bloke.

“Sirius! Sirius: no.” Remus' voice was an attempt at calm, though Sirius could hear the nervousness under it. “Sirius, don't do this. Think about this.”

Firmly ensconced in Remus' bed, Sirius turned to James. His face was red, glasses slipped halfway down his nose and hair sticking up in all directions. He was leaning half off, half on his bed, as if he couldn't decide whether he wanted to draw his curtains and hide, or run off and tell a teacher about them. “No, you know what: Pete was right.” Sirius gestured at the closed curtains of Peter's bed. “If _you_ wanted Evans to spend the night, we wouldn't raise a fuss. Maybe take the mickey a bit,” Sirius admitted, “but we'd _let_ you.”

Sirius allowed a nasty little smirk to grow on his face as he waited out a string of curse words and homophobic slurs fall from James' lips. He cut in when James stopped for a breath. “But you _don't_ have Evans yet, do you, Potter?” Deliberately and visibly, Sirius set his hand down on Remus' blanket-covered thigh, squeezing tightly. Remus growled up at him, but Sirius ignored it. He was too busy watching James' reaction as the bespectacled boy practically fell over himself trying not to see.

“But _I've_ got Remus to do for me _everything_ Evans wouldn't even ever _think_ of doing for you.” Sirius turned to Remus, doing his best to ignore the murderous looks his boyfriend was leveling at him. “So what do you say, Moony? Blow job? Rim job? It's been a good twelve hours since we've gotten off together, and Merlin knows that's _so long_ for us to go in between.” Ignoring both James and Remus' anger, Sirius waved a hand over his shoulder at James. “Just ignore him, Moony. He's just jealous we're about to get our rocks off.”

“ _Sirius_!” Remus shoved Sirius away forcefully, throwing him against the pillows. Sirius smirked and raised an eyebrow at the movement, but Remus wasn't even looking at him. Instead he crawled to the edge of the bed, holding one soothing hand out to James. “I'm sorry, James. We didn't mean for any of this to come out the way it did, and I know it'll take some getting used to-”

James' face twisted cruelly, the horrified disgust that had disfigured it when Sirius was talking replaced with loathing. Sirius watched as James opened his mouth, like he was watching one of Voldemort's new thugs fire off a spell: there was nothing he could do to stop it, and he knew Remus was going to be hurt.

“Shut your fucking _snout_ , gayarse. I don't even _know_ what they should call what you two do together. Homosexuality? _Bestiality_? I had noticed you and Pads getting a bit too frisky on full, but never thought anything of it. Now... did you guys ever do anything? Did you ever mount him as a wolf, Lupin? Let him mount you as Pads? Maybe you didn't even wait for the full-”

With cold, calculated fury, Remus' flicked his wand four times. One flick cast a silencing spell around James' bed. The second closed his curtains. The third and fourth did the same, only aimed at Remus' own bed. It was all over so quickly that Sirius barely had time to blink before Remus was sagging down against his pillows, eyes wet and weary.

“Oh. Oh, Moony, I'm _so sorry_. You just say the word, and I'll get James for you. I'll-”

“Shut up, Padfoot.”

Knowing Remus' moods even better than he knew James', Sirius clamped his mouth shut, fiddling with Remus' duvet as he waited for the amber-eyed boy to quietly pull himself back together through a series of deep, even breaths.

When he finally did speak, his words made Sirius' mouth drop down just about to his stomach. “You were being deliberately cruel.”

“Me?!” Sirius flung an arm out, pointing through the drawn curtains in the direction of James' bed. “Did you _hear_ him, Moony? Hear what he said? About us? And... and...”

“Yes,” Remus hissed, rolling gingerly over on his side, back to Sirius. “I _heard_ him. I'm not _deaf_. But you were still egging him on: climbing into my bed, talking about our... our...” Remus waved a lazy hand between them without looking back at Sirius. “You know. What we do.”

Wincing, Sirius crawled up behind Remus, rubbing his arm gently. “Sorry, Rems,” he murmured. “I wasn't thinking.”

“I know,” was Remus' whispered response. “It happens with you.”

Waiting a beat, Sirius watched Remus' body language. His inhalations were stiff, jerky, and his exhalations appeared to be rushed. His entire body was held tight, like he was afraid of moving too much. “'s not a good moon,” Sirius muttered at last, nudging at Remus' arm. “Come on, get on your stomach.” It was the only response he could have, when Remus brought up the Prank. Because Sirius had been wrong, and stupid, and an absolutely horrific human being. So it was all he could do, to offer some physical relief from the pain. It was the best he could do.

With a stifled moan, but no protestations, Remus rolled onto his stomach, face pressed into the pillow and arms at his sides. Sirius reached under the pillow and grabbed some of the medicinal oil they got from Madam Pomfrey for just such occasions, pouring some onto the small of Remus' back. He settled in above Remus – knees straddling Remus' hips, hands splayed out across his back – and began his massage. Remus' soft groans and whimpers were muffled by his pillows, but Sirius had been doing this for Remus long enough to know what areas needed the most attention.

“Thought you were supposed to give me a blow job?” Remus' words were muffled but still audible to Sirius, who let out a barking laugh.

“We can do that too, if you'd like.” His hands slid down the left side of Remus' spine, thumbs digging in at each vertebrate and deftly working their way down.

Remus sighed, lifting his head and popping his neck as he turned to the side. Sirius watched Remus' long eyelashes flutter against his face as he poked and prodded at his back. “Not really in the mood.”

Sirius snorted. “Me neither. Though I suppose having your brother think that Salazar's torture dungeon is too good a place for you tends to kill the mood.”

“He doesn't-”

“I know you said you weren't deaf, Moony, but I'm beginning to doubt that.”

Remus fell silent, and Sirius shifted over to his right side, working his rotary cuff first. “You shoving us in his face isn't helping.”

“I don't care.” Sirius shook his head decisively, dark hair hanging in his eyes as he worked at Remus' shoulder. “I decided it this morning, Moony: I don't care if it just pisses him off more. He's got to get over this himself, because I am _not_ choosing him over you. Not with the way he's been treating you. And me,” Sirius added as an afterthought. Because really, that's what his own feelings in all this were: an afterthought. James was acting like a total arse to him, fine. James had done so before. But James was acting like an arse to _Remus_ , too: who never hurt anyone, who never deserved a single ounce of the tonnes of suffering and sorrow that the world dumped down onto him.

Finishing his massage, Sirius placed a kiss to the back of Remus' neck, before edging down and lying next to him on the bed. Remus turned to face him, a sort of world-weariness filling his eyes. “I still think there's a better way to handle this. James could accept us eventually. Maybe if we pretended to split up for a bit, give him some time to adjust?”

Sirius was already shaking his head before Remus finished, throwing a thigh over Remus'. “No way. We stick together in all this, and we just wait James out. If he doesn't come around eventually, then I don't _want_ him for a brother.”

Remus darted forward and pressed a quick kiss to Sirius' lips, lingering just long enough to touch his tongue to Sirius' in a tiny little reassurance. “You know it shouldn't be a choice, Pads. You should be able to have us both: brother _and_ boyfriend.”

“James made it one.” Sirius flicked Remus' wand and turned out the last of the lights that were illuminating their small section of the room, cocooned within blankets and curtains. As Remus fell asleep pressed up against Sirius' chest, Sirius nuzzled his cheek against Remus' hair. It was definitely _James_ who had made it into a choice, who had tried to force Sirius' hand. And until James figured out what a right twat he was being, Sirius was perfectly fine choosing Remus over him.

  
  



	3. Choice Two

 

Sirius' fingers were idly folding paper airplanes as he waited by Remus' side in the hospital wing. The smooth slide of the folded edges beneath his finger pads and his nails calmed him slightly, and gave his twitchy hands something to do other than pick at themselves.

With one completed to his satisfaction – a dozen other rejects tossed into the wastebasket next to Remus' bed – Sirius pulled out his wand and practiced his _Wingardium Leviosa_ on it. He idly trailed the plane around Remus' bed, ducking over and under the posts that held the curtains up. A fond cough interrupted his absentminded spellcasting, drawing his attention to a just-waking Remus on the bed.

With a last flick of his wand, Sirius brought the airplane to rest on Remus' stomach. The bedridden boy picked up the plane and unfolded it, pouting when he saw it was blank. “And here I was,” he croaked, causing Sirius to instinctively reach for a glass of water, “thinking you were sending me love letters.”

Sirius pressed the water into Remus' hands, waiting as the boy drained the whole glass in a few long gulps. He refilled the glass immediately, trying to pass it back to Remus who refused it with a small shake of his head. Sirius placed it on the side table, ready at a moment's notice.

With a seriousness bordering on reverence, Sirius brought a hand up to Remus' forehead. It lingered there for a moment, testing for a temperature, cold sweat, or throbbing veins. Remus waited patiently in his prone position, as he did after every full. Satisfied that Remus was no more ill than usual for this time of the month, Sirius let his hand card back into Remus' hair, separating sweat-clumped locks from each other with gentle diligence.

Remus hummed, closing his eyes as he let Sirius pet him. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and Sirius remained silent, waiting for him to speak. “How'd everything go?”

It was the first thing Remus asked after every full moon. Sirius smiled reassuringly as he lifted the glass of water again and pushed it back into Remus' hands. “Fine. Everything went fine.”

Remus swallowed another half a glass before passing it back to Sirius, who diligently refilled it with the pitcher on the nightstand. All of this routine was no different from how fulls normally went: Sirius fretting over Remus, Remus fretting over everyone else. Normally James and Peter would be there as well, watching the proceedings with rolling eyes and pushing chocolates and exploding snap cards at Remus as they tried to interrupt the cringe-worthy affection between the two canine-inclined boys. Of course, before today no one had ever thought it odd how much Sirius doted on Remus after full moons, and how Remus let him with not even a grimace for all the attention.

“Was Prongs-”

Sirius shook his head, glancing away from Remus. “No,” he murmured. “Wormtail came out. Crawled all over Moony's fur. Moony seemed a bit peeved, snapped at him once or twice when he squirmed too close to your ears, but it was fine. We stayed just around the Shack. Didn't want to risk going too far without...” Sirius' voice trailed off as he glanced away from Remus. His hands dropped to the bedsheets, fingers fiddling with each other until Remus laid a gentle hand over them, quieting Sirius' nervous twitching.

“Isn't there a match?” It wasn't exactly a change in subject – more of a gentle suggestion. “Against Slytherin?” Remus pressed, “What time is it?”

Sirius didn't even need to glance at the clock above Madam Pomfrey's workstation to know that the match had already started. He shrugged a shoulder as he moved a hand back to Remus' head, running his fingernails gently over Remus' scalp. His eyes turned to Remus' face as the other's eyes closed, studying his face carefully for any signs of discomfort. Every time a muscle in Remus' jaw relaxed, or a smile tugged at his lips, Sirius' heart leapt, eyes drinking in the sight greedily.

“Doesn't matter,” Sirius finally whispered, hand slipping down to cup Remus' cheek. His thumb moved slowly over Remus' cheekbone, just a faint whisper of motion. Remus' eyes opened, managing to look disappointed with Sirius even lying sick in bed.

“If you had gone to the match, cheered him on...”

Removing his hand from Remus' cheek, Sirius leveled him with a fierce look. “He didn't come out to full. That's _way_ more important than some ruddy Quidditch match.”

Interrupting any argument that might have started between the two of them, Madam Pomfrey bustled over with a sleeping draught and bottle of healing lotion. “Other boys busy this morning?” She asked, even as she encouraged Remus to sit up and swallow the sleeping draught.

Sirius' leg twitched out and kicked at one of the bed's legs. “Quidditch match,” he grumbled.

“Oh, well then,” Madam Pomfrey said, “Mr. Potter can't exactly miss that, being Seeker and Captain and all. And I suppose Mr. Pettigrew's cheering him on.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, picking at his fingers. “Probably wetting himself with the joy of it.”

“Language, Mr. Black.”

Sirius tried shooting Pomfrey a quick version of one of his grins, and it apparently did the trick, because she patted his head consolingly. “It's of course always a delight to see you here looking after your classmate, Mr. Black. Remus is lucky to have a friend like you.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick glance, before Remus spoke up, sleeping draught slurring the edge of his words. “Madam Pomfrey? You wouldn't... James is mad, and...”

The draught was kicking in, and Remus' eyes fell shut before he could even complete the thought. Sirius turned to Pomfrey, taking Remus' limp hand gently in his as he did. “What Remus was trying to say was: James might not be around for a bit. We had a... a bit of a falling out.”

“Boys,” Pomfrey threw up her hands and chuckled. “What was it over? No, wait, let me guess,” her ruby-red lips twitched knowingly, “a lass. Was that it? Was Remus getting too close to that Evans girl? I know Potter's had his eye on her for years.”

Sirius shook his head ruefully, running his fingers in between Remus' over and over again. Feeling Remus' skin move against his was soothing, comforting: even with Remus sound asleep. “Not exactly. It's,” he hesitated, glancing up at Pomfrey. Would she try and separate them, if she knew? Would she force them to sleep in different dorm rooms, or not let Sirius around any more after fulls? But she was so good with Remus being a werewolf, and seemed so understanding about everything else – but then again, so had James.

Sirius decided to take a leap of faith, Pomfrey's bright green eyes encouraging him forward. “It's because James found out Remus and I... we're a bit more than friends. You know?”

When Pomfrey's hand shot up to her mouth, Sirius thought he had just ruined everything, and had a fleeting moment of panic course through him. But then Pomfrey was giggling, and Sirius realized she had covered her mouth because she was smiling. “Oh my word, Sirius. You really know how to upset the family conventions, don't you?” She sighed, glancing at Remus before running a motherly hand through his hair, much like Sirius had earlier. “And Remus: as if he wasn't going to face enough prejudice in life as it was.”

Clutching Remus' hand tighter and pulling it to his chest, Sirius stared fiercely up at Pomfrey. “But he's got me. I'll protect him.”

Madam Pomfrey's smile was warm as she turned to Sirius, patting him lovingly on the cheek. “I'm sure you will, Mr. Black.” She paused, lipstick-covered lips twitching in amusement. “And I'd be lying if I said I had never guessed. You two boys display your affections much more physically and openly than any other teenage boys I've seen in my years here.”

Sirius blushed, glancing down at the soundly-sleeping Remus. “I just... worry. You know.”

“I know,” Pomfrey agreed. In a surprising display of affection that she normally reserved for Remus, the older woman bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of Sirius' head. “I'll just leave him with you, then. I know he'll be in good hands.”

Sirius nodded and stood, helping Pomfrey draw the privacy curtains around Remus' bed. He smiled as he sat back down and propped his feet up on the bed, crossing his ankles as he relaxed. At least he knew that the staff – some of the staff, anyway – wouldn't be horrified with him and Remus. And it didn't look like anyone would be forcing them to move to separate dorms just on principle.

So long as James kept his stupid mouth shut.

**

Sirius was awoken by the sound of a chair scraping loudly over the Hospital Wing tiles. He jerked to attention, practically falling out of his seat as he swung his head around, looking for the source of the disturbance. His eyes landed on Peter, who was hauling a chair over to the other side of Remus' bed with one arm, the other laden with chocolate frogs.

“Shh!” Sirius hissed. “You're going to wake-”

“Too late,” came Remus' groggy reply. He groaned and stretched on the bed, eyes blinking open as he glanced around his small section of the Hospital Wing. “Hullo, Pete. Those for me?”

Peter nodded even as he dumped the armload of candy and chocolates onto the bed. They tumbled down into the valleys made by Remus' limbs under the covers, coming to rest in different areas on the blankets. Sirius picked a chocolate frog that tumbled down over to him, popping it into his mouth before it had the chance to hop away. Remus himself went for a bar of chocolate, breaking off a corner piece and setting it in his mouth, humming as it slowly melted. Sirius watched fondly. Remus had the most peculiar habits when it came to eating chocolates.

“Gryffindor won,” Peter offered, not really looking at Sirius. “Party back in the common room.”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius grumbled as he picked at a Fizzing Wizzbee, “that's what tends to happen when we win.”

Remus glanced at him as his mouth moved, cheek protruding after he shoved the piece of chocolate in his mouth to the side. “They're going to really notice, now,” he offered, words slightly muffled as he talked around the chocolate.

Sirius shrugged. Peter and Remus were right to mention it: Sirius always was the leader in any celebrations of Gryffindor's dominance. He'd supply the entire house with butterbeer and firewhiskey, shoot off complicated fireworks spells that no one else knew, and generally be the loudest, drunkest, proudest Gryffindor of them all, dancing on tables and howling to the proverbial moon. His absence from the celebration today – _especially_ considering it was a match against Slytherin – would be more than noticeable; it'd be Dumbledore showing up without his beard, or the Sorting Hat absent from the opening ceremony.

“We should head over,” Remus suggested, words clearer now that he had finished his piece of chocolate. “I'm feeling well enough to make it to bed, and you need to put in an appearance.”

“No you're not, and no I don't.” Sirius grimaced and spat into the wastebasket. Bogey flavored jellybean. He had thought it was key lime pie. “Eat your chocolate.”

“ _Sirius_.” Remus' voice was stern, his expression that no-nonsense one he got on only the rare occasion, like when he was reprimanding fourth years. “I'm heading back to the dorms. You can help or not. I've got Pete to help me, after all.”

Sirius grumbled, but stood up, throwing away the rest of his every-flavored beans. Peter scrambled to collect all the chocolates, shoving as much as he could into his robe pockets and holding the rest. Carefully Sirius wrapped an arm under Remus', helping him slide toward the edge of the bed and get his feet under him. “Deep breath,” Sirius murmured, ignoring the eye-roll he was sure Remus was giving him. In a single smooth motion, he lifted Remus to his feet, waiting as the other boy's knees wobbled and shook for a moment before steadying.

“Good?” Sirius ducked his head, looking into Remus' eyes for any signs of pain or discomfort. A small sheen of sweat had broken out on Remus' forehead, but he seemed relatively stable now.

“Fine. Not too bad, honestly.”

Sirius didn't take Remus' word for it, but could tell by the way Remus was holding himself that he'd be all right to make it back to the dorms. Ducking his head again, Sirius pressed a quick kiss to Remus' lips, lingering just long enough for the other boy to kiss back. “Come on,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Remus' temple before pulling away, “let's get going.”

The first few steps were a challenge, but before they even reached the hospital doors Remus was walking on his own, only keeping a hand at Sirius' elbow for reassurance. As Peter grabbed the door for them, Sirius noticed the way he avoided looking at the two of them.

“Oh, sorry Pete. I didn't think-”

“'s fine.” Peter waved a hand as they started their slow journey down the Hogwart's hallways, keeping close to the walls to avoid over-enthusiastic students running into them. “Still just weird, you know?”

Sirius shrugged, laughing. “Well, I don't really _know_ , since it's not weird for us.”

Peter gagged jokingly, ruffling his blonde hair. “You know, I was actually thinking about it last night-”

“Oi, you hear that, Moony? He was _thinking_ about us snogging _last night.”_

Remus chuckled as Peter shot them two fingers.

“Thinking about how to _explain_ it, you arse,” Peter continued. “Why it's so weird to see you blokes kissing. And I think I've got it sussed.”

Remus' gaze flickered up from his feet and over to Peter for a moment. “Isn't it just because we're two of your best mates? Seems like that'd be reason enough.” Sirius moved closer to Remus as his steps stuttered, and the injured boy dropped his gaze back down to his feet.

“It's not just that, though,” Peter argued. “At least, I think. I mean, check this: so, it's awkward for _any_ couple, even a guy and a girl, to snog in front of you, yeah?”

Sirius and Remus nodded in agreement. Sirius grinned, leaning past Remus to tease Peter: “That time you and Susan Haxley were going at it in the common room I just about ruined my trainers.”

Again, two fingers came up as Peter shot Sirius a dirty look. He continued relatively unperturbed. “So any couple snogging is awkward, even if it's just a normal guy and girl. But with two guys – or two girls, I guess, though I'd pay good money to see that – you don't ever see it. So it reaches this whole other level of awkward, because it's just _weird_. Not that,” Peter rushed on to reassure Sirius and Remus, “I think you blokes are weird. I'm never going to understand it myself, but whatever makes you happy is fine by me. Point is, seeing two people kiss: awkward. Seeing two boys kiss, which you never see, _ever_ : more awkward. It's like...” Peter snapped his fingers, “watching a bloke kiss a camel. You just don't ever see it. It looks weird.”

Sirius and Remus exchanged an amused look as they stepped onto a moving staircase with Peter, waiting patiently as it shifted from the floor they were on up to the fourth floor. Sirius turned to Remus, eyebrow quirked. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but I do believe one of us just got compared to a camel, Moony.”

Remus pretended to consider this, wry smile tugging at his lips even as Peter groaned and smacked himself on the forehead behind him. “I imagine it was you, Padfoot old chum. After all, you do have quite the 'hump' obsession.”

The two boys collapsed into snickers as Peter turned red, clutching at his hair with both hands. “I'm trying to have a serious conversation, here!” he shouted as the stairs came to a stop. They stepped off, continuing on to Gryffindor Tower.

Sirius laughed. “We know. We're just taking the mickey.”

Remus nudged Peter's shoulder with his own, even though he winced immediately afterward with the motion. “And it's alright to feel that way. If only everyone was even half as accepting.”

And awkward silence descended over the boys in those last two hallways to their common room, as each considered what the result of James' homophobia might be. Sirius felt a sickening tendril of doubt curling around his heart as a vision of months and years without James in his life stretched before him. Would the Potter's be similarly as bigoted? Where would Sirius live? Remus' family wasn't well-off, nor did they know the nature of their relationship. It was doubtful they'd let a disinherited seventeen-year-old vagabond crash at their place until Sirius found a way to make rent.

Peter gave the password to the Fat Lady, who was already drinking in celebration of Gryffindor's victory. Sirius moved away from Remus as they stepped in, after double-checking to make sure that the other boy was steady enough to make it on his own to the dorm stairs.

Inside, the common room was in an uproar. Butterbeer sloshed freely around as someone set off pre-packaged Zonko's fireworks. Red and gold banners and streamers hung around the room, similarly colored glitter blinding Sirius every few meters as yet another student set off a cracker filled with it.

A drunken Frank Longbottom collapsed into Sirius, who was doing his best to keep the revelers away from Remus and get him up the stairs as quickly as possible. “Jus' in time, Sir-us!” he slurred, dragging a helpless Sirius away from Remus. “Gotta... James. Say you... cong- conr- congr- woo!”

In an instant Sirius found himself being shoved up onto a table with James Potter, who was pumping his broom in the air and giving a drunken account of what must have been the game-winning snitch capture. “Sho, sho then... _woosh_!” he cackled. “Lucius' _face_.”

The room fell silent, turning to watch Sirius as he stood on the table, feeling terribly exposed and uncomfortable – for the first time ever – under the careful scrutiny of all those eyes. A shot glass of firewhiskey was pushed into his hands, and Sirius found his arm raising it high automatically, in preparation for a toast.

By now James had stopped trying to recount his heroic Quidditch abilities and was glaring daggers at Sirius, alcohol lowering his instincts for self-preservation. Across the room, Sirius could see Remus and Peter standing just before the stairs to the boys' dorms. Remus' eyes were sad, but pleading: begging him not to make a scene, to just go along with it, to try and talk James down from the inevitable, public fight.

“What're _you_ doin' up here, you fookin'-”

“Toast!” Sirius carefully avoided looking at James as he jerked the firewhiskey glass in his grip, encouraging the rest of the Gryffindor's present to do the same. Mustering up an enthusiasm he in no way felt, Sirius shouted: “To Gryffindor! To Quidditch! And to meeting Slytherin in the finals, with the same result!”

The students roared, fireworks going off and streamers flying every which-way, covering the gathered population from head to toe in red and gold. Throwing back his head, Sirius gulped the firewhiskey. In one motion he jumped off the desk and tossed the glass to a nearby student who didn't look _too_ pissed, then flipped his hair and strode away, pushing through the crowds to the stairwell. Hands seemed to fling themselves out and pat him on the back as he walked, Sirius accepting the praise and returning the cheers with years of practiced ease, autopilot doing all the work for him. Right now his conscious mind was only concerned with two things: getting Remus upstairs to bed, and leaving before James caused a scene.

He reached the stairwell, unrealized held breath escaping his lips as he sidled up to Remus. In such a raucously drunk crowd, a little bit of contact between the two boys would go entirely unnoticed. It was how they had managed to hide their relationship in plain sight for so many years. Hell, they had gotten away with Valentine's Day _dates_ at Hogesmeade before, calling it a “Happy Bachelor's Club”. Peter always had some girl on his arm for the day, and James was always mooning over Lily, so was automatically not invited.

Briefly, Sirius mused that Gryffindors might be bloody brilliant, but were also just a bit dense. He didn't think Remus and his relationship would have stayed secret for so long in Ravenclaw. Or, hell: even Slytherin.

Oh, bollocks. He should have touched wood. Just as Sirius thought he was in the clear, one foot on the bottom step as he turned with Remus to head upstairs, the _one_ Gryffindor with any sort of observational skills appeared to behind him.

“Sirius Black. What _exactly_ is going on between you and Potter?”

Wincing, Sirius turned slowly around. He was met by a pile of red hair and green eyes, pursed lips and hands on hips. “Hey, Evans,” he grumbled.

“Well?” She raised an eyebrow, looking every centimeter the prefect she was. “What is it? Normally you'd be cavorting more drunkenly and loudly than the lot of them, but here you are, slinking away with Remus and Pettigrew.”

Sneering in a way calculated to send Lily off in a huff, Sirius turned up the Black haughtiness. “Boys' business, Evans. You wouldn't understand. Now if you'd just excuse us-”

To his surprise, Sirius found himself stopped by Remus' hand on his elbow. His boyfriend's eyes were shifty, dropping guilty down at the floor as he refused to meet Sirius' eyes. “Lily... kind of already... _knows_.”

Sirius imagined his prompt imitation of a gaping fish satisfied Lily's sense of superiority immensely. Well, bugger her.

“Listen,” Remus turned to Lily, hand still on Sirius' elbow – though now more for support than to keep Sirius in place. “I need a lie down. Do you mind taking this upstairs? I'm sure Sirius would explain.”

Overprotective instincts kicking in, Sirius nodded in agreement to whatever it was Remus just said. His entire focus was now on getting an increasingly wan-looking Remus up to his bed, maybe with a hot towel on the back of his neck and a nice, medicated back rub.

Which was how Sirius found himself watching Lily sniff disapprovingly at their things, Remus bare-backed beneath him as his hands slid slowly over his moon-tired muscles. “So?” Lily prompted. “What's got Potter looking like he just kissed Severus?”

He felt Remus tense beneath his hands even before he saw the muscles in his back tighten painfully. Patiently, gently, Sirius slid his slicked hands over the smooth skin, kneading and working until they slowly unwound themselves. He shot Lily an accusatory look. Remus didn't deserve to be upset so soon after the full.

“Why're you so interested in Potter, Evans?” Sirius fired back, smirking to himself as Lily blushed hard enough to clash with her hair. “More importantly, what do you think you know about Remus and me?”

Remus' eyelashes fluttered over his cheek where his face was visible in profile against his pillow. “Lily found out last year,” he mumbled. “Valentine's Day.”

Turning his focus to Lily, Sirius frowned as he took in the smug smirk on her face. “I thought there was something up with you two, so I asked Remus out on Valentine's Day as friends. He said you boys had your 'bachelor' get-together that day.” She flipped her hair. “ _Honestly_ , Remus: you don't need to be raised a wizard to have heard _that_ excuse before. I suppose you and Sirius are going to be 'flatmates' after Hogwarts? The right girl just never going to come along?”

Sirius dropped his gaze, focusing on shifting his ministrations to Remus' right side. He worked his thumbs down the side of Remus' spine in slow, even movements. “It was the best we could come up with,” he muttered. “Better than stringing some bird along, using her as a cover!”

He could see Lily's dismissive hand-wave in the periphery of his vision. “Granted,” she acknowledged. “But it was still obvious – to me, at least. And I wanted in on it, so I pressured Remus until I got it out of him.” She studied her hands nonchalantly, picking at her dark purple nail polish. “Honestly, I just wanted to get some gossip on _you_ , Black. Every girl my year just goes _on and on_ about how utterly _magnificent_ you'd be in bed, and I wanted to hear Remus' corrections.”

“Moony!” Sirius didn't even pause in his massage, but he pouted down at the boy beneath him. Remus cracked an eye open and smiled apologetically.

“She did get _some_ stuff out of me during rounds. But all good things!”

Lily sighed, disappointment evident. “ _Sickeningly_ so,” she grumbled. “It was quite the letdown. I was just _sure_ you'd be all fantasy, no reality, but you seem to be _something_ right, if Remus' incomprehensible devotion to you is any indication.” Before Sirius could figure out how to respond to Lily's left-handed compliment, she plowed right on. “So. Potter. He found out, didn't he?”

Peter piped up from his bed, swinging his legs back and forth over the edge. “We both did,” he supplied. “It was an eventful morning. James went to wake Sirius up, found him and Remus lying together, all loved-up. Sirius was...” Peter flushed, kicking his heels more violently against the side of his bed. “Right up against... Remus was... snuggling. In his arms.” Peter vaguely hugged the air before settling back on his elbows and sighing. “I think it was seeing Remus' bits and Sirius' hands centimeters away that really did James in.”

Lily snorted in a rather un-girly way. Sirius continued to rub Remus' back, sliding down onto Remus' thighs so he could rub his sciatic nerves more easily. They always wound up pinched after fulls – Sirius suspected it had something to do with the way Remus' hips had to swing around to transform into the wolf.

“But that was it?” Lily pressed. “Potter caught you two spooning – naked, apparently –” Peter nodded an affirmation, “and went mad?”

Sirius shrugged as he continued to trace a firm line over the stubborn nerve with his thumbs. “Dunno. First thing I knew Potter was throwing Remus onto the floor and socking me in the jaw.” Sirius allowed his fingers to trail lovingly along Remus' hip for a moment before switching sides again.

“But Petti- sorry, Peter seems fine with it.”

Peter shrugged two meaty shoulders from his place on the bed. “Wasn't exactly my idea of a pleasant morning, seeing my two mates naked and without the width of their short hairs between them,” he mused, “but so long as I don't have to see it again, I don't care. I guess James was just raised different, or something.”

Lily glanced over at Sirius, taking in his position on top of Remus, and Remus' near-nudity beneath him. “But, what about... _this_ , for instance.”

Peter blinked. “What, the massage? Sirius does this after every full.”

“James knows this?” Sirius and Peter glanced between each other, confused. Lily continued after they nodded: “And he _never_ thought this was strange? _You_ never picked up on them being a bit more-than-friends, Peter?”

Peter shrugged, looking ashamed. “It's just... it's how they are. Sirius and Remus. It's how they've been for years.”

“Well,” Remus spoke up, prompting Sirius to glance down at him. He had thought Remus had drifted off already. “We've been _together_ 'for years'. It wasn't like there was a recent, sudden change in our behavior toward each other. And when we were third years and just starting out, no one was really thinking stuff like that, so no one really noticed if we looked at each other different, or touched a little too much.”

Lily rolled her eyes and flipped her hair. “ _Boys_ ,” she announced to the room at large, as if that explained it all.

Abruptly the door opened, and in stumbled a rather impressively sloshed James. Sirius suspected the drinking had more to do with James' anger with him and Remus than it did any Gryffindor victory, since he normally never got _this_ drunk unless it was over the House Cup. “Oh, look,” he slurred, “the _poofters_. Given Wormy a show? Gonna... fucking... orgy... thing. With the... cocks.”

Before Sirius could even lift himself off of Remus and crawl back to his own bed, Lily was in front of James, hair flying and eyes blazing. “James Potter!” James' eyes went wide, then gooey, as he registered Lily standing in front of him. “I think it's simply _abhorrent_ the way you're treating your two best friends, just because they fell in love. You should be ashamed.”

James blinked out of sync, then kept one eye closed as he tried to focus on Lily. “But... Lils... we... did you see the Quidditch? I did the Quidditch.”

“You caught the snitch because Lucius was nearly too sick to sit on his broom, much less fly to his full capabilities. If he was, he would have _trounced_ you, since you spent more time glaring at the stands than actually looking for the snitch.”

With those acerbic words, Lily was off in a whirlwind of red hair and green eyes. James was left staring at the space where she was standing, sheer bafflement pervading his features. Meanwhile, Sirius took the moment of confusion to press a quick kiss to Remus' shoulder and slide off him, tip-toeing over to his bed. He didn't even bother getting changed into his pajamas: James would pass out in a matter of minutes, and then Sirius could go through his nightly routine devoid of drunken, homophobic slurs.

Sure enough, one grumbled “poofter” later, and James was snoring into his pillow, glasses pressing into his face and sure to leave deep red lines tomorrow. Sirius chose not to slip them off and move them to James' bedside table as he passed James on his way to the bathroom. When he returned, clad in pajama bottoms and scratching his stomach, Sirius pointedly ignored the snoring berk and went to Remus' bed. He tugged the covers up, tucking them tight under Remus' sides and making sure the other boy was sleeping comfortably. He ran a quick hand through Remus' hair, kissed his forehead, and was back in his bed, trying to sleep away his worries of the day. At least James would have a killer hangover tomorrow.

  
  



	4. Choice Three

 

Sirius grinned at his reflection in the mirror, giving it a wink and shooting it finger guns. “Looking handsome!” the mirror told him.

Sirius blew the mirror a kiss and winked again. “Thanks, sexy!” Smoothing his hair one last time and double-checking for spots, Sirius took two steps back to give his outfit a once-over. Tight jeans, silky grey button-down shirt, charcoal scarf and a gorgeous little peacoat that really managed to show off his arse and make him look five years older.

Oh yeah. He was ready for Valentine's Day.

Leaving the bathroom, Sirius hurried over to his bed and dove beneath it, looking for that fancy wallet his parents had bought him several Christmases ago. He wanted to pay for Remus' meal tonight at the Three Broomsticks, and was determined to look slick while doing so.

Finger pads brushing against something leather, Sirius closed his hand and yanked, hoping for the best. A dusty, dull leather wallet slid out from under the bed. Jackpot. Brushing it down quickly, Sirius shoved his money into and closed it up, tucking it into his inside jacket pocket.

Sirius stood, brushing himself down carefully and checking himself over another time. If Sirius was right – and he generally was when it came to his irresistibility – Remus would be tugging him into an empty classroom for some alone time after dinner. A shiver ran through Sirius. They had been subsisting on a distressingly low number of hurried gropes in deserted corridors and a handful of surprisingly depressing blow jobs in the prefect baths. Tonight was their chance to change that. Or at least get a good shag in, for once.

Just as Sirius was reaching out to open their dorm room door, it burst open, James stumbling in with it and glaring at the room at large.

“What?” James shouted, single word distressingly slurred. “What d'you want? Huh?”

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his hair. The motion drew James' attention to him, whose blue eyes locked onto Sirius with disturbing focus for someone so belligerently drunk. “Oh, look,” he sneered. “It's the _poofter_. Going out on a little fairy, gay-date with your come re-shep-ticle? I bet it's Moony, right? He's... he's the... the arse. One.”

James hadn't been much better than this for the past month. For the most part, Sirius did his best not to rise to James' taunts, and succeeded so long as James didn't touch on Remus' lycanthropy. But today Sirius had a date to get to, and didn't have time to deal with any of James' wank. Especially not drunken wank.

As politely and calmly as he could, Sirius tried to edge his way past James and out the door, so that he could get to Hogsmeade. Remus had gotten ready in the prefect baths, and Sirius was just gagging to see how he looked. Probably all academic, with his light brown fringe falling in his eyes – amber and gleaming up at Sirius in the warm light of the Three Broomsticks. Maybe he'd even wear that one fancy muggle jacket of his: the one with the leather patches on the elbows. Sirius shivered as his gaze slipped away from James and down the stairwell. Oh, sweet, wonderful _Merlin_ let Remus be wearing the jacket with the leather patches on the elbows.

“You're just a poofter 'cause you couldn't get dates on Valentine's Day.” James was still talking, wobbling in the middle of the doorway as he stared vaguely in Sirius' direction. “If... if you had birds... no cocks. You'd... birds.”

Sirius shook his head, and decided to risk it and make contact with James. He was going to be late if he dawdled much longer – as it was, he was going to have to take the secret passage under Honeydukes at a run in order to make it to the Three Broomsticks on time. With as little actual touching as possible, Sirius edged James to the side of the door, trying to push past. It wasn't working. James was too busy hanging his head, mumbling to himself with Sirius' name thrown in every couple of words.

“Lily... I'm not going to suck cock just 'cause of her.”

A sigh. Sirius paused. So this was about Lily. It was always about Lily with James. Well: Lily, Snivellus, or Quidditch. Those were pretty much the only subjects that brought out any sophisticated – or not – emotions in his rather daft almost-brother.

Poking at James with a single index finger, Sirius continued his increasingly frustrated attempt to move him away from the door. “She turn you down again?”

“'course she did!” James wailed, leaning against the doorframe with a profound, alcohol-scented burp. “And she said you poofters... uh... 'cause of that! I'm treating you guys wrong, so she's... no Valentine's Day. But I'm not sucking cock for Lily!”

“No one's asking you to, mate.” Awkwardly Sirius patted James' shoulder with a stiff palm. This was the most contact they'd had in almost a month. If Sirius had known all it took was a particularly harsh rejection from Lily to bring James back on side, at least partially, he would have begged the mad bird to do this weeks ago. “Rest assured that Remus and I didn't turn gay because of lack of pussy. Now, could we save this conversation for another day? One when you're sober, and I'm not late?”

Then James raised his head, and Sirius found himself stopping in his pursuit to leave. James was _crying_. Actually, full-blown, tears-down-the-face, snot-down-the-nose, _crying_. “She'll never want me, Pads! She likes you poofters better'n she likes me!”

Sirius stared at the ceiling for fifteen seconds. He knew it was fifteen seconds, because he counted each individual one. Godric's hairy left arsecheek. Was he _really_ going to do this? Was he _really_ going to stand up Remus – his boyfriend, his soul mate, his total love of his life – on _Valentine's Day_ , of all days, just to take care of his twat of a lush former-best mate?

James groaned and stumbled into Sirius, fingers clutching at his shirt. Sirius knew that particular groan and hue of James' face all to well. Cursing every head of house that ever existed, Sirius manhandled James to the toilets. They got there just in time, where Sirius then waited patiently, holding James' glasses in one hand and rubbing his back with the other as he vomited into the toilet.

“Just how I wanted to spend my Valentine's Day,” Sirius grumbled to the mirror, who was looking rather forlornly back at him. “Holding Gryffindor's biggest twat in the world's eyeglasses as he vomits his guts out.” Sirius glanced down, then sighed and reached for his wand. “And on my shoes. Damn it, James: I just polished these.” James' only response was a groan, then more sustained heaving. “Could have been at the Three Broomsticks,” Sirius lamented. “Right now, I could have been watching Remus' eyes sparkle in the candlelight. Maybe played footsie under the table. Hell, we might have already had a blow job in the loo by now, _I don't know!_ ”

Growling, Sirius kicked at the toilet. Then he glanced down at James, who seemed finished heaving. “Alright, you plonker,” he grumbled, hauling James to his feet. He managed to bodily drag James from the toilets and to his bed, tossing him down without much concern for where he ended up. James just groaned and rolled to the side, wrapping one arm around his stomach and the other around his head.

“Room's spinning, Pads,” he moaned.

For a moment Sirius took pity on him: he did look right _pathetic_ , rolling listlessly around on his bed and moaning like a baby. Sirius sighed and grabbed a relatively clean glass from James' side table, filling it with water from his wand. “Drink this, you berk,” he grumbled, shoving it at James. “You're going to have the hangover from hell tomorrow.”

James took the water gratefully, downing it in a matter of seconds. Sirius refilled it with his wand and passed it back again, forcing James to down the second glass as well. “I still think poofters issick,” James slurred as he pushed the twice-drained glass at Sirius.

Sirius could only shrug in response as he sat on the edge of James' bed. “That's how some people feel about lycanthropy, James. We all embraced Remus with open arms.”

“You mor'n me,” James grumbled.

Sirius sighed, running a hand through his perfectly-sculpted hair. He had spent a bloody hour on it. Wasted. “We're not having this conversation when you've consumed more alcohol than Hagrid at Christmas. Now shut up and pass out, so I can try to salvage my date with Remus.”

“But... why'd you... with Remus? Is... _Remus_ , Pads. Why'd you have to go and be with him?”

Sirius stared at his hands, replying softly: “Because it's _Remus_ , James. Because he's my balance. Because he keeps me sane, and does his best to keep me in check. Because he can stay calm, give me something to grab hold of, when my brain and heart and balls are all whirling around in a thousand different directions, trying to get me to do a thousand different things. He just has to be there, and suddenly I'm not everywhere. I'm just... with him.”

James didn't seem to be able to hear what Sirius was saying, and kept mumbling to himself, every other word slurred almost beyond comprehension. “Had our whole future planned, you know. We'd get married-” For a moment Sirius thought James meant him and Sirius, together as a couple, and panicked. But James continued on before Sirius could react. “Me an' Lily, you and some bird.” Sirius let out a huge sigh of relief. “Then we'd have kids. _Brilliant_ kids. They'd go to Hogwarts, and be on the Quidditch team, win Gryffindor the House Cup... but. You an' _Moony_. Now s'all...” James waved a heavy hand, letting it drop like a stone at the apex of its movement.

“We can still have that, James,” Sirius tried to soothe. “It's just a little change. Me and Remus, instead of me and some bird. And maybe we adopt some kids, or maybe we just spoil all yours rotten-”

“No!” James interrupted. His eyes were glassy as they tried to glare at Sirius. “Not the same. Because you're _poofters_.”

Sirius stared at the doorway and counted to thirty. “Still true!” he wanted to shout. Instead he settled for: “Calling me a 'poofter' is like trying to insult the Squid by calling him 'wet'.”

James seemed unable to comprehend Sirius' analogy, and continued to moan and clutch at his head. Sirius sighed, swinging his legs up onto James' bed and settling in against the headboard. “Budge over,” he grumbled, shoving James to the side of the bed. James seemed like he wanted to look panicked, or disgusted, but was too busy trying to keep the room in place to attempt it. “And don't worry,” Sirius sneered, “I'm not going to try and take advantage of you. You lush.” Sirius glanced at the door, then at his watch. Buggering fuck. This was really shit.

**

When Remus stormed into the dorm room, two hours later and jacket soaking from the heavy snow outside, Sirius wanted to scrunch himself up into a little ball. Remus' eyes made something in Sirius' soul _tear_ : they were hurt, confused, angry, and scared, all rolled up into one giant, emotional mess.

Those eyes quickly took in the scene in the dorm room: Sirius on James' bed, James passed out to the side, one arm and one leg hanging off the edge. Sirius was playing a game of exploding snap by himself on James' duvet, and somehow losing.

Shoving the cards to one side, Sirius scrambled up from the bed and over to Remus. It was then he noticed that Remus had indeed worn the jacket with the leather patches on the elbows. _Oh_. Sirius kind of wanted to cry. Or punch James square in the nose.

“I'm _so_ , _so_ sorry, Moony. James-”

“I had to walk back _alone_ , Sirius,” Remus growled, dragging Sirius away from James' bed by his elbow and over to Remus'. “There are curfews in affect! They were afraid of single students getting _attacked_. Didn't you hear Dumbledore yesterday?” Sirius winced. Oh bollocks. He had completely forgotten about that. To be honest, concern over the increased attacks hadn't really registered with him. For one, he couldn't bring himself to care about some cult-leader and his dense followers picking on a few schoolkids. For another... well: he was pureblood. The rumors were they only picked on muggle-born students.

Which Remus was, on one side.

Sirius winced, bringing his hands up to Remus' cheeks. They were freezing to the touch and rosy from the cold February wind. “I'm so sorry, Remus. I didn't even remember that. James wasn't letting me leave, and he was smashed, and then he was vomiting, and I had to... you know. Take care of him.”

“What about me?” Remus hissed. “ _I_ needed you to _take care of me_. In more ways than one, if my innuendo can get through that thick Black skull of yours!”

Dropping his hands from Remus' face, Sirius groaned. “You think I didn't think about that? Remus: look at me! I'm all done up, just for you! I even got the wallet out.” He pulled the wallet out of his pocket, passing it over to Remus, whose eyes softened as he turned it over in his hands. “Trust me, Remus,” Sirius continued, taking a step closer and wrapping his hands around Remus' waist. This time, Remus leaned into him, eyes still sad but less angry and hurt. “I needed tonight as much as you did. But James needed me, too. Plus he was blocking the door,” Sirius added with a small grin.

Remus laughed, shaking his head slowly before leaning in and pressing their foreheads together. Sirius wiggled his body against Remus', settling them into a proper embrace. “You couldn't have just knocked him down? He was drunk: he'd probably have gone down easily.”

Sirius mock-gasped, slow grin spreading across his face as it did the same on Remus'. “Moony! Such an un-prefectly suggestion! I was helping a friend in need!”

They had slowly begun walking backwards toward Remus' bed, legs sliding together in unison until the backs of Sirius' knees were bumping up against the mattress. Remus' face turned sweet as he leaned in and kissed Sirius lightly on the lips. “I know,” he murmured. “And that's why I'm not staying mad.”

Sirius glanced down along Remus' figure, taking in the sight of him. He was exactly as Sirius had pictured him – jacket with leather patches, camel-colored jumper, Gryffindor scarf, and brown hair falling in his eyes – except even more radiant, because he was there, in the flesh, body pressed up against Sirius' in every possible spot.

Sirius' chest was rising and falling more quickly as he felt his already-tight jeans grow even tighter. He could feel Remus' chest moving just as quickly, and could only imagine what was going on inside his own trousers. “You look gorgeous.” Sirius trailed his lips along Remus' neck as he mumbled the compliment, pressing a gentle kiss every centimeter. Remus' arm tightened around his waist, neck arching automatically to invite Sirius for more. “You have no idea how much I love this jacket.”

Remus' wicked laugh followed Sirius down to the mattress as he found himself being pushed onto it by Remus, who then promptly crawled on top of Sirius and stared hungrily down at him. Sirius gulped. He desperately wanted to be devoured.

“I know,” Remus replied. “Why do you think I wore it?”

A shiver moved from Sirius' neck down to the tips of his toes, leaving him a puddle of pliant eagerness beneath Remus. “What about James?” he whispered, with the last ounce of his control.

Quick as a stupefy, Remus' wand was out, flicking shut his bed curtains and casting a silencing spell over them. Sirius was crawling up to the headboard as fast as he could, fingers snatching at the bottle of lube Remus kept stashed under his pillow. Breathless laughter filled their little bubble of quiet as fingers scrambled at jacket buttons and yanked at scarves.

As Remus was pushing Sirius' peacoat off him with a sort of viciousness he normally reserved for the week before the full, he paused and glanced up at Sirius from beneath long eyelashes, a hint of his usual reservation back. “By the way,” he murmured, “you'd put Bowie to shame, you look so handsome tonight.”

Sirius found he just _had_ to kiss Remus after that, pulling him in by his hair and biting his bottom lip shamelessly. Clothes started to vanish more quickly after that first wet slide of tongue on tongue, and with disturbing rapidity Sirius sound himself lying naked beneath a hungry-looking Remus. He swallowed.

“Do you want to top tonight?” It was almost unheard of for Remus to top outside of the week before full, but he was acting so _dominant_ tonight, Sirius thought it best he ask.

But Remus was shaking his head, eyes already squeezed shut as he moved against Sirius, expression softly pained with each slide of skin against skin. “Can't,” he finally managed to force out. “Not going to last. Just...” Remus surged forward, kissing Sirius without any concern for technique. His tongue forced its way into Sirius' mouth, teeth clacking against teeth and stinging lips as the skin got pinched between them. Saliva dribbled down their faces as Remus started to moan, mouth held wide against Sirius' as he lost the focus to kiss.

It was terrible, and also one of the hottest kisses Sirius had ever experienced.

“Just get the lube,” Remus finally managed to pant.

Sirius' hand flew out to his side, scrambling for the lube and snapping it open as soon as he did. He squeezed a palmful into Remus' hand – too much, since they were just rubbing against each other, but Sirius found he couldn't bring himself to care.

When Remus brought that hand down between them and started stroking the slick wetness of the both of their skins, Sirius arched up and cried out, hand going to Remus' shoulder and squeezing tightly. Remus' lips were at his throat, mumbling: “Good?”

“Good, good,” Sirius breathed. Their bodies moved together more quickly now, Remus' hand acting as a guiding focus behind their rutting. “Harder, Remus, please...” Sirius gave up asking even as the request fell from his lips, slipping his hand down to Remus arse and squeezing tight, hauling Remus against him closer, harder.

A low moan escaped Remus' throat at the action, and he bit down on Sirius' neck. “Sirius-”

“Fuck, Remus.” It had been too long. _Way_ too long since they had the opportunity to lie naked together, to feel every centimeter of each other, pressed up against them and moving, spiraling, falling toward completion. The odd wank in an alcove, with hands thrust under robes and doing their best to look inconspicuous, just didn't fulfill all of Sirius' needs. It was an exquisite, hedonistic joy for Sirius to get to feel Remus' overheated skin against his, their sweating hips banging into each other when they thrust disharmoniously.

Remus came first, with his advantageous leverage helping him to bring himself off more easily than Sirius did, trapped as he was beneath Remus' body. Sticky come spurted between them, dribbling down Sirius' stomach to nest in his pubic hair. He groaned as Remus' teeth dug into his clavicle, still trying to move, to get _off_ , all while Remus was turning into a pile of wet noodles on top of him.

“Remus... please...”

Sirius's fingers tore at the sheets when Remus lifted his head and gave him a goofy smile, before sliding down Sirius' body until his face was level with Sirius' erection. He took a moment, hand wrapped tight around the base, to just smell it, rub his face against it, lavish it with soft kisses and compliments. Sirius' hips bucked as Remus buried his face in his pubic hair, breathing deep and just nuzzling.

But the need for release was too imminent for Sirius to enjoy Remus' post-coital affections, and soon he was squeezing hand urgently in Remus' hair, hips rolling upward over and over again in barely restrained desperation.

When Remus' lips finally wrapped around the head of Sirius' erection and slid down, Sirius found himself nearly sobbing with pleasure and happiness. It felt like coming home. It felt like everything in the world was being made right, just by Remus moving his mouth gently over this one piece of Sirius' flesh. It felt like James, and his bigotry, and all those other arseholes in the world who felt the same way just didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was Remus' lips on him, and Sirius' own pleasure bursting forth.

Remus pulled off of him with a pleased grin, sliding back up and nestling in Sirius' side as them came down from their orgasms. Sirius found that all he wanted to do was just lie there and stroke Remus' hair for the next hour – or two, or days, or weeks.

All too soon, Remus was nudging at Sirius' hip, drawing him out of his daze. “You've got to go, Sirius,” he murmured.

Sirius sighed. Yeah. He suppose he did have to go: if he had made any progress with James that night – if James could remember anything that happened – it would be reversed the moment James found them sleeping naked together in Remus' bed.

With a groan Sirius pushed himself upright, wiping half-heartedly at the drying come on his stomach. Leaning to the left, he drank in the sight of Remus half-asleep next to him: hair fanned out on the pillow, eyes gazing blearily up at him, ghost of a grin still tugging at his lips. Sirius bent down and kissed Remus, running a gentle hand over his bare flank as he did. When they stopped, Sirius stayed bent over, nuzzling at Remus' nose and placing soft kisses all over his face: eyes, eyebrows, cheeks, nose.

Eventually Remus snuffled and nudged his forehead against Sirius'. “Go on,” he mumbled, reluctance evident in his voice. “You've got to go.”

“I know.” Forlornly Sirius pulled away, crawling around on the bed to gather up his clothes before standing and grabbing the rest. “You know,” he paused, biting his lip as he gazed down at Remus, who stared back up at him. “Maybe,” Sirius' gut churned, “After Hogwarts... I want to wake up with you. All the time. I want to be able to fall asleep with you, just like that.” He nodded at where he had been lying, so blissful and relaxed just moments earlier. “D'you reckon we could get a flat together? I'm probably banished from the Potter's as it is, so-”

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter wouldn't do that to you,” Remus reassured him. “But, yeah. If we can scrape together the money. You don't have your inheritance to rely on, remember.”

Sirius nodded, feeling more exposed by the conversation than by his current nudity. “Yeah,” he conceded. “I know. I just thought-”

“Yes.” Remus interrupted Sirius with a soft smile. “I'll move in with you, Sirius. Now just find us some jobs so it can actually happen.”

With that, Sirius hurried off to his own bed, tip-toeing into his pajamas and tossing his dirty laundry on the floor for the house elves to take care of. James was still passed out on one side of his own bed, and was certainly still breathing, if the bedpost-rattling snores were anything to go by.

Feeling more at ease than he had in months, Sirius drifted off into sleep.

  
  



	5. Choice Four

 

Sirius' foot jangled the whole potions table as he sat on the far left side, doing his best to ignore the total berk who was seated on the far right side of the same table. The berk who hadn’t come out to Remus’ last full moon, even though Sirius had skipped out on his date with Remus to hold the berk’s stupid, pissed self as he vomited his face off in the gents. The berk on the other side of the table who _still_ wouldn’t speak to them, even though it had been closing in on two _months_ of this stupid shit.

“Pete,” said berk spoke up, stupid hair sticking up in all directions, “tell that cocksucker to stop shaking the table. It's giving me a headache.”

Peter turned to Sirius, throwing his thumb over his shoulder at James. “Did you get that? James asked if you could stop shaking the table.”

“Pete,” Sirius sneered, “tell that champion wanker I'll shake the table if it damn well suits me.”

Turning to James, Peter sighed as he relayed the message. “Sirius said no.”

James snorted at the response. “Pete, ask Sirius if he can't keep still because his arse is sore from Moony buggering it.”

Peter turned to Sirius. “James still wants you to stop shaking your leg.”

Just to really drive James mad, Sirius jiggled his leg even harder, causing their cauldrons to rattle and shake. James' expression was thunderous, looking like he might jump over the table and try and wallop Sirius right there. Then Remus' hand settled on Sirius' thigh, his eyes mournful. “Pads,” he murmured. “Don't.”

He stopped, but not before shooting two fingers and a glare at James. In response, James shoved his index finger into a circle made by his fingers on his other hand, thrusting it in and out lewdly. “Hey Pete,” James turned to Peter again, “ask Black if he always does what Lupin asks, or if it's because Lupin takes it up the arse like a champ.”

Grabbing Peter by the collar before the other boy could even turn to him, Sirius hissed: “Hey Pete, tell that fucking moron that maybe he wouldn't care about mine and Remus' sex life if he was getting some of his own.”

Just as James slammed his hands down on the table and made to stand up, Slughorn appeared at the front of the classroom and clapped his meaty hands together.

“Alright class! Today we will be practicing a potion which will almost certainly appear on your NEWT exam next year. It is the Blood-Replenishing Potion, which, as the name suggests, will replenish the blood of the drinker. This is an especially important potion for you students who are looking to become Aurors or Healers, so pay careful attention.” Slughorn then proceeded to list the ingredients to the potion, as the students took careful notes on quantities and time of administration. He finished his explanation with a caveat. “Now, if you brew the potion incorrectly, it becomes a blood _draining_ potion. The color difference between the two is only very slight, so for the love of Salazar _be careful_.”

With that, Slughorn waved his hand for the students to break up into their potion groups. Sirius hesitated. _Before_ all hell had broken loose between the Marauders Sirius would pair up with James, and Remus with Peter. This was for the sake of proper potions: Sirius and Remus were the second and third best potion-brewers in Gryffindor – behind only Evans. James and Peter, on the other hand, were the absolute worst. _After_ the “Great Outing” of Sirius and Remus, the two boyfriends had taken to sticking together in class, leaving poor Peter and (the less-worthy of sympathy) Potter to try and fend for themselves.

But now Sirius hesitated, even as Remus started gathering their cauldron and splitting off to one of the workstations. He glanced over at James and Peter, who were already arguing over their notes and the first step they were supposed to do. “Pete,” Sirius picked at his fingernails, glancing back at Remus who was staring at him expectantly. “Why don't you pair up with Remus? I'll take Potter.”

James' entire body tensed, practically snarling as he glanced up at Sirius. Before he could open his mouth to let fly another series of insults – which were honestly just getting repetitive in this second month of this ridiculous fight – Sirius continued. “Tell Potter this is an _auror_ potion. I don't need him brewing it wrong and then drinking it when I'm out in the field. And I don't need him whining to me when he can't pass his qualifications for auror.”

With a sigh, Peter turned back to James and threw his thumb over his shoulder at Sirius. “Sirius says stop being a fucking twat, and put your life above this stupid fight.” He turned and started to head over to Remus. “Thank fucking _Merlin_ ,” he grumbled under his breath. “I won't get blown up today...”

Sirius turned to James, arms crossed over his chest and delicate, Black eyebrow arched. James turned away, eyes intent on his notes. Fine. They didn't have to talk to get the potion brewed. James just needed to actually _listen_ to what Sirius told him to do. Sirius glanced at James again. Easier said than done.

As part of the first step James reached for some cauldron oil, ready to prepare it for brewing. Sirius' hand shot out, grabbing James' around the wrist. Immediately James dropped the oil and snatched his hand away, as if Sirius' touch had burned it. James' expression seemed to be a battleground for a moment, as if his desire to insult and shout and scream at Sirius was just about ready to override his desire to continue not talking directly to him.

Sirius snatched at the oil and ignored James' reaction to him. He couldn't pretend that seeing his brother act like he had dragon pox invoked any sort of warm fuzzy feelings within him, but he'd just have to grow some stones and ignore it for now. “You can't pour the oil in with this potion. It's a thickening potion, which means the less oil used originally, the better.” As he spoke and carefully avoided eye contact with James, Sirius picked up a spare cloth on their workstation. He poured the oil carefully on the cloth, before reaching inside the cauldron and brushing the oil around. He did it a second and third time, until the cauldron was just barely shining with a thin layer of oil.

“Just write it down in your notes, Potter,” Sirius grumbled, eyes still on the table. “You don't want to forget it for NEWTs. Or an auror exam.”

Sirius' gaze drifted over to Remus' workstation, where he and Peter were carefully pouring in the first ingredient. He sighed, gaze softening as he watched Remus blow impatiently at his hair, causing the soft golden fringe to puff up, then drift right back down into his eyes. What Sirius wouldn't give to be able to brush that hair out of Remus' eyes, _not_ behind closed curtains or locked classroom doors.

Bottles of ingredients started slamming down on their workstation, startling Sirius out of his fancying. James' face was thunderous, but his lips were pressed tightly shut. Sirius grunted and turned back to the potion, carefully measuring out the first ingredient and pouring it in, being careful not to splash it. “Not like we've ever complained about you mooning over Evans. Taken the mickey, sure, but not anything like what you're doing. Nothing _mean_.”

James sneered as he reached for the second ingredient, measuring carefully even as Sirius looked on. “ _Nothing mean_ ,” he repeated in a falsetto. “Sounds like there's a girl at my workstation,” he complained to the air. “That's funny: I don't remember partnering up with a girl. Oh wait:” Sirius sighed, waiting for the inevitable comment on his sexuality, “I partnered up with someone who sure loves nob like a-”

“Potter!” James jumped, almost spilling the ingredient he held in one hand. Both boys' heads whipped up, to see Slughorn standing at their workstation, girth bumping into the side. “That doesn't sound like a discussion on potion-making.”

James dropped his head, focusing on the ingredient in his hand. “No, Professor. Sorry.” Slughorn nodded once, glancing in their cauldron before sniffing approvingly, and moving on to the next table.

Sirius and James took a moment to glare at each other without actually looking at each other. Then they continued on with the potion.

Two sweaty and exhausting hours later, Slughorn called for the end of class. Sirius glanced at their cauldron, then at the picture in the textbook. It _looked_ the right hue of blood red, but it was just so damn hard to tell. Was that a smattering of pink at the edges? He frowned and picked at his cuticles. It had seemed fine as they were brewing it – no wrong steps taken, no accidental extra turns of the spoon or anything.

With a flick of his wand, Sulghorn levitated the cauldrons as one and started to guide them into the back room, instructing the students back to their seats for final instructions before they left. Sirius scrambled at the chance to be back next to Remus – two hours in passive-aggressive silence was a bit trying.

He settled into his seat, letting Peter take the chair between himself and James so as to avoid any major conflicts. Remus was looking similarly sweaty and tired, but he still managed to muster up a weak smile for Sirius as he sat down next to him. Sirius grinned back, reaching out a surreptitious hand under the table and squeezing Remus' leg. If him and James had managed to get through the past two hours without killing each other – lack of actual dialogue between them notwithstanding – there might be hope.

Sirius really wanted to wrap Remus up into a sweaty, messy kiss in relief. But such an action would reset any progress they had made with James, so Sirius settled for an extra swipe of his thumb over Remus' thigh before removing his hand. Remus' smile was really all Sirius needed for now: snogging could wait.

“Peter,” Sirius and Remus turned their attention to James, who was staring hard at the table as he spoke. “Tell Moony that Prongs'll be there this month.”

Sirius' head whipped around to Remus, whose eyes started to look a bit watery. They shared another hopeful smile.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered. “James, that means a lot. Really, thank-”

“And Peter,” Sirius stopped a growl as James continued to avoid eye contact with them, “tell Lupin that there's no reason for him to injure himself just because my former canine friend has impulse control issues.”

Sirius started up out of his seat, only halted by Remus' hand on his elbow. “Peter,” he started, leaving Peter holding his head in his hands in exasperation. “Tell that grass-eater that it's not like I'm _raping_ little innocent Remus. He wants this just as much as I do! And-” Sirius ignored Remus hissing in his ear, telling him to shut up, that he was just making it worse, that all the progress they had made today was going to be _lost_ if he kept _flapping his big gob_ , “This isn't some sort of 'impulse' on my part: we've been together for _three years_!” James' head shot up at that, mouth falling open in shock.

Forgetting the pretense of talking through Peter at that point, Sirius continued on, looking directly at James as he spoke. “Yeah. Since third year. So don't even act like we're different because of this, or we're suddenly big fat fairies or anything, or we're about to jump anything with a cock from now on, because you hadn’t noticed yet, and you probably never would have, you daft sod, until you caught us at it.”

Sirius watched as James' face blotched and flushed and turned green with disgust. His mouth flapped furiously, but no sounds came out other than a few choked whimpers. With a growl James gathered up his potion book and stood, turning back to Peter for one final parting remark. “Tell Moony I'll be there.” And with that, James was gone, not even staying to listen to Slughorn's final notes for the day.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter all exchanged surprised looks, Peter finally speaking up first. “Well,” he mused. “Guess that's progress.”

Sirius' stomach did a little flip as he turned to Remus, hopeful smile tugging at both their lips. Maybe Peter was right. Maybe they were making some headway with James, despite Sirius' continued goading.

Sirius' optimistic mood only lasted until Slughorn came in and asked the students to look back at a particular step in their notes. When he looked down to follow along, it was to find that his notes had been erased, wiped clean by a subtle, well-aimed spell. Sirius turned and glanced back at the doorway that James had fled out mere minutes before, before reaching for Remus' notes and starting to copy them.

Bastard Potter.

  
  



	6. Choice Five

 

“Peter, ask Potter if he has any sixes.”

“James, Sirius wants to know if you have any sixes.”

“Peter, tell Black to go fish. And that this muggle game is stupider than Helga Hufflepuff's pet badger.”

“James says go fish.”

“Peter, ask Black if he's got any of the little men with the 'K'.”

“James, Sirius wants to know if you have any kings.”

“Peter, pass my king over to Potter and tell him it'd be better suited up his arse, rooting out the stick that is obviously firmly ensconced up there.”

“Here's his king. Got any twos, James?”

“Go fish. And, while you're doing that, tell Black that his hair is looking particularly fairy today.”

“James says you've got nice hair.”

“Peter, tell Potter that he's suspiciously expert on all things poofter. Ask him if he's harboring any secret crushes – fancying a style and a manicure?”

“James, Sirius says to lay off.”

“Peter, tell Black-”

“You know what?!” Peter jumped up from his chair in the Hospital Wing, tossing his cards down on the table. Face turning bright red beneath his blonde mop of hair, he threw up his arms in frustration. “I'm done! _Two fucking months_!” he shouted, shoving two upheld fingers into both Sirius and James' faces. The two still-seated boys could only watch, stunned. “ _Two months_ I've played moderator to you blokes' shit! And I'm fucking done!”

In a huff, Peter gathered up his books and tossed aside the privacy curtain pulled around Remus' bed. He threw a dismissive hand over his shoulder as he stormed away. “You blokes can either sit there in silence, or figure out how to actually talk to each other, because I'm over it.”

With that, Peter swung open the heavy doors to the wing, and was gone.

Sirius gaped at the door for a full minute before turning back to James. Then he was quickly looking away, scowling, because James was steadfastly glaring at the tiled floors in an attempt to avoid eye contact with Sirius. After several long minutes of total silence and passive-aggressive glaring at flooring, Sirius found his gaze drifting up to Remus, who lay asleep in his hospital bed. With nothing better to do, Sirius stood up and went over to Remus' bedside, tugging the blankets up to his chin and smoothing them back down, before pushing back sweaty light brown hair from his forehead and letting his palm rest there, checking for any signs of fever.

James snorted, the sound of it loud in the nearly empty Hospital Wing. When Sirius glared at him, James actually had the good character to look a little shamefaced and glance at a still-sleeping Remus in apology.

Sliding back into his seat, Sirius scuffed his trainers on the ground, swinging his legs back and forth. He chanced a glance back up at James, who had his arms crossed resolutely over his chest, still steadfastly glaring at the flooring.

“I used to do stuff like this before, you know,” Sirius grumbled. He waved his hand at Remus and the bed. “Taking care of him. Fussing over him. You and Peter never cared.”

There was a long stretch of silence, to the point that Sirius thought James might just keep ignoring him, same as he had for the past two months. But then he shifted: just slightly, but enough for Sirius to know he was actually listening. So Sirius tried a little bit more.

“Most things you get upset about are things Remus and I always used to do in front of you two. The massages and teasing, hugs and me taking care of him. It's just... you never cared when you thought we were just mates. And now that you know we aren't, that we're more, now all those things seem like a big deal to you. But they're not. Just like me jumping on you after a Quidditch game didn't mean anything more, but now I can't come within a meter of you without you calling me a poofter, and saying I'm trying to grab your arse. But I'm no different, James. And neither is Remus. We're the same blokes we always were. You just know a bit more about what we do when the curtains close at night, s'all.”

“We knew.”

Sirius started, practically falling over in his seat when James spoke. He waited for a moment, expecting James to say more. When he didn't, Sirius prompted: “You knew? Who? Knew what?”

James' glare was still fixed firmly on the ground, his arms crossed over his chest and entire body closed off from anything around him. And yet, he shifted slightly, a single foot turning toward Sirius. “Wormtail and me,” he grunted. “Knew something was up. After the Prank.”

Sirius shifted guiltily, eyes immediately seeking out Remus' sleeping form. He looked so relaxed and peaceful lying there, relatively uninjured, small smile tugging at his lips in sleep. It was so unlike how he looked the morning after the Prank. Sirius' memory was still foggy concerning the days and nights surrounding his reckless actions – due to guilt, or tears, or sheer horror, he wasn't sure exactly why – but the one thing he could remember vividly was every deep wound marring Remus' body, and then the hurt and horror that had deformed his face when Sirius had tearfully confessed to what he had done.

“What-” Sirius' voice cracked, and he had to swallow and blink away tears before he could continue. “What d'you mean?”

“We overheard you blokes talking. Before break.”

Sirius nodded slowly, thinking back. There had been a lot of attempted conversations between the two of them: Sirius initiating but then feeling guilty, and slinking away; Remus trying to be angry, but just falling silent as he realized he couldn't be. “Which time?”

James moved: stretching his legs out in front of him, chin resolutely resting on his chest. “Remus said you hated Snivellus more than you loved him. Wormtail thought it meant something, but I said it was just, you know... whatever. Brotherly love, or some shite.”

Sirius nodded, remembering the conversation. That one had been one of the bad ones: one of the times when Sirius had stuck around long enough to try and explain, and apologize; one of the times when Remus had forced himself to stay angry at Sirius, rather than falling back into his arms.

_Sirius' fingers were fiddling with each other as he avoided Remus' eyes. They were sitting cross-legged on Remus' bed, knees not quite touching, eyes sliding over each other as they tried to have this conversation for the millionth time. He was trying to explain. Again. “You know how much I hate Snivellus, and-”_

“ _Yeah, Sirius: you're right.” Remus' voice was bitter and angry. It scared Sirius. He didn't like to hear Remus bitter. In spite of everything that had happened to him – in spite of all the terrible reasons Remus had to be cynical and bitter and angry at the world – Remus still always managed to possess a sense of quiet optimism. And somehow, Sirius had managed to destroy that. With every harsh word that fell from Remus' mouth, every hurt look and angry sigh, something akin to a_ cruciatus _jolted Sirius' heart. “You're right. I_ do _know how much you hate Severus: more than you love me.”_

“ _No, no, Remus, Moony, never, never. Please...” Sirius' voice was broken as he shifted closer to Remus on the bed, but Remus just turned his head away, staring at his curtains resolutely. Tears glistened on Sirius' cheeks, but he didn't wipe them away, trying to prove to Remus how much he cared, how broken he was._

“ _Go away, Sirius. Not now. I don't want to see you anymore today. I'm too tired.”_

 _With only a moment's hesitation, Sirius slithered off the bed and to his own, curling up under the covers without bothering to get undressed. He never wanted this to happen. He never wanted to hurt Remus. He just hadn't_ thought...

“You guys heard that?”

James shrugged, entire demeanor surly. “Eh.”

Sirius hesitated before leaning toward James slightly, forearms on his knees. “You blokes heard all that, and... you didn't think... I mean, Prongs. Come on.” Sirius was feeling rather unimpressed with his two best mates at the moment. Tactfully, he refrained from calling James one of the densest blokes he had ever met, and opted instead to wait out the silence.

“Yeah, well. Never occurred to me to think that my best mate took it up the arse.”

Sirius stayed quiet. James was talking to him. That was the important thing. The little digs and insults he could let slide. For now.

After allowing James a moment of silence to himself, Sirius volunteered a piece of information. “We didn't get back on 'til over Christmas holiday. We pretended like we were okay before that, I know,” he continued upon seeing James' brow furrow, “and I guess we were okay. As just mates. But he didn't take me back as more'n that,” Sirius thought it wise to avoid the word “boyfriend” just yet, until James seemed like he could handle it better, “until midway through the break. Couple days after Christmas.”

“How's that?” James uncrossed and recrossed his legs stretched out in front of him, toeing his trainers against each other lazily. “You were at mine over the break.”

“Letters.” Sirius picked at his cuticles. “We wrote a lot over the break. Twice a day, sometimes.”

“Fucking sick,” James grunted, body language becoming more closed off. “Were you fucking _wanking_ in my guest bed? There's just a single wall between us, Black! Way to take advantage of my folks' hospitality!”

“Not like you don't wank, Potter! Probably more'n me, considering you don't have someone to get off with!” Abruptly Sirius stopped himself, reigning his temper back in. They were talking again. Remus would tell him to stay calm, to be the bigger person, to not rise to James' baiting. Taking a deep breath, Sirius continued. “And it wasn't like that,” he said, much more calmly. “The letters. They were...” he wanted to say “love letters”, but he was afraid that might disgust James even more. “They were right sappy, if you want to know the truth,” he finally grumbled, hoping a bit of self-deprecation might go a long way with James.

It did. James snorted loudly, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, well, no surprise with you writing them. You always were an over-sentimental muppet.”

Sirius nodded, smiling slightly. He was. At least, when it came to Remus. But who wouldn't be? Risking a look over, Sirius caught James glancing at him with something close to a grin gracing his face. But then it was gone as soon as they made eye contact, James' gaze back on his trainers and mouth set firmly in a frown.

“How'd you get Moony to take you back? After that.”

Sirius shrugged, looking at Remus. The sheets rose and fell steadily with his inhalations and exhalations. Sirius allowed the smooth, metronomic movements to calm his thoughts. “I stopped trying to explain and started apologizing. A lot. Over and over again.” Up, down. Breathe in, breathe out. That was what Sirius could always rely on Remus for: his calming influence, even when he was fast asleep. “And then I stopped trying to win him back as my... more'n mates, and tried to pretend like it'd be okay if we just stayed like that.”

Sirius hesitated, then fell silent. It'd probably be best not to mention to James that it was Remus who broke first, dragging Sirius into his bed that first night back from break and pinning Sirius' arms above his head. _“Never again_ ,”Remus had ordered, staring down at Sirius with an almost feral intensity. Sirius had practically broken his neck, shaking his head so hard, before Remus had fallen to him, shagging Sirius to within a centimeter of sanity.

Best if James didn't know that part.

After another quiet moment, James spoke again, still not lifting his chin from his chest or uncrossing his arms. His ponderous tone brought Sirius out of his happy reverie. “Never understood why Moony was angry with you for so long. Seemed weird. I mean, you were a right bastard, but Wormtail and I forgave you a month before Moony could even look at you again. Always thought it was just because you did it to Moony, not us. But I guess...” James paused, finally shooting a glance in Sirius' direction, who was waiting as patiently as he could. “How could you do that to him, anyway? I mean, if you two were fucking?”

Sirius growled, making sure not to look directly at James. They'd start fighting again if he did. “Yeah well, wasn't exactly thinking clearly, Potter.” Sirius shifted, unconsciously mimicking James' surly slouch. “Worst decision of my fucking life,” he grumbled.

“No shit,” was James' unhelpful commentary.

“Yeah. Well.” They fell silent for a moment, both boys looking at Remus as he continued to sleep with the aid of Madam Pomfrey's sleeping draught. “Real question is: why in all of Arthur's Albion did Remus take me back?”

“Yeah, well: that's Remus for you.”

Sirius tensed, yanking his legs up so both feet were planted firmly on the floor. “What's that supposed to mean?” Lowering his voice with a quick glance to Remus' shifting form, Sirius continued. “Remus isn't some doormat, you know. He didn't just roll over because I whispered some sweet nothings-”

“Fucking hell, Sirius, I know!” James' startled exasperation was so ridiculously normal that for a second the two boys forgot they were even fighting: James rubbed a hand over his head and looked baffled at Sirius, while Sirius in turn held his hands up in friendly acknowledgement of James' response. Then the past few months caught up with them, and the two slouched in their chairs, turning away from each other again. After a moment James continued. “Just was saying that Remus has always been the best one out of all of us.”

“Had to be,” Sirius smiled at Remus' fluttering eyelashes. “To put up with me and all.”

“My nose is itching.” Remus' sleepy voice interrupted the two boys, causing Sirius to spring into action, reaching for the glass of water on Remus' nightstand. Patiently Remus drank half the glass, before pushing it aside with a chiding, yet loving look to Sirius for his mother-hen routine.

Nudging Sirius aside, Remus eased himself a little more upright in the hospital bed and smile weakly at James. “Thanks, James. For saying that.”

“I've got an essay to write,” James grumbled. He stood abruptly, eyes darting around for his things before gangly limbs followed, scooping up his books. Sirius watched, leaning on the edge of Remus' bed. James might not acknowledge the gratitude from Remus, but it was a sight better than insulting him for it. They were definitely making progress, and the soft smile on Remus' face as he watched James fumble around said that he knew it, too.

Once James had managed to fling his lanky body out the Hospital Wing doors, Sirius turned to find Remus barely-restraining a grin. “What?” he questioned, even as he crawled up onto the bed to settle carefully next to Remus.

Remus' grin stopped being restrained and rapidly took over his entire face as he gingerly wrapped an arm around Sirius' shoulders. “You two are talking again.”

Sirius kissed Remus' neck, nuzzling his nose against the spot afterward. “Little bit. Kind of.”

“Anything bad about me?” Remus teased.

Sirius snorted. “Yeah right. You heard. All good things about you. Anything bad was about me.”

“Naturally.”

Normally Sirius might poke Remus in the ribs for such cheek, or tackle him, or – given a more private situation – tweak his nipples or tug playfully at his balls. But given Remus' current world of sore muscles and exhaustion-riddled body, Sirius opted instead to pepper his neck with kisses. Not quite the retaliatory response such a remark warranted, but it would do for now.

“Did I miss anything important?”

Sirius kept his face buried in Remus' neck. It was safer there; he wouldn't have to look at Remus' expression, there. “We talked about what happened last autumn.”

“Oh.”

As gently and calmly as he could, Sirius rubbed soothing lines up and down Remus' arm with his hand not currently pressing into the mattress, while simultaneously nuzzling at the hollow of his throat. “Yeah.” Sirius waited until he felt some of the tension slowly work its way out of Remus' body. “James thinks I'm a bigger arse than he already did, but you came out smelling of roses, no worries. And somehow the two together – I _think_ – made things better between us’n James. Not loads, but...”

Remus shifted, then Sirius felt a kiss being pressed to the top of his head. “Progress, then.”

Sirius nodded. “Progress.”

“That's good.” Remus yawned. “Up for a late-morning snuggle?”

With a grin Sirius shifted away from Remus to clamber under the sheets, helping the other boy to settle back down into a prone position. “More early afternoon,” Sirius corrected. “But sounds good. C'mere.” Within a minute, both boys were asleep in each other's arms.

**

Sirius was snickering not-so-subtly at James as he struggled with his trunk. James was currently bouncing up and down on the lid, trying to force all his clothes and candy and the like into much too small a space.

Peter was sitting rather smugly atop his own trunk on the other side of the room, twirling his wand between his fingers. Sure, the wand-twirling was a bit fumbled, but the point was that Peter had managed to close his trunk. James hadn't.

“Just use a shrinking charm,” Peter prompted, after a good five minutes of watching James struggle.

“No!” James bounced harder. “It... can... fit!”

It wasn't going to fit. Every boy in the room besides James could see that. Finally Sirius brought his wand out to end it, casting a well-aimed shrinking charm on the contents of the trunk visible beneath the lid. The lid snapped shut abruptly, eliciting a squeak from James, still clinging to the top.

He glared at Sirius, though the expression didn't contain the heat it had over the past few months. “Oi, thanks a lot,” he grumbled. “I _had_ that. It would have shut. It was giving way.”

Sirius just shook his head and shared a look with Peter: all raised eyebrows and smug grins. A dirty Quidditch sock flew across the room and smacked him in the face in gratitude.

“Where's your shit anyways?” James waved over at Sirius' bed. “You better get packing: we gotta get downstairs in half an hour. Unless you're not bringing anything home for Easter hols?”

The room went silent. Sirius chanced what he thought was a surreptitious glance at Remus, who had gone very, very still hunched over his coursework. The glance didn't get past James. “What?!” Sirius winced. “You're staying here with _him_? Why?!”

Remus still hadn't looked up from his coursework, so Sirius looked away, opting to stare at the ceiling – specifically his curtain canopy – instead. James was still... touchy. Saying he and Remus had been planning on staying at Hogwarts for Easter holiday so they could shag each other's brains out might be a bit much. And though Sirius would never phrase it in such a way out loud, there was _un_ fortunately no full during the break: otherwise he could have just used that as his excuse for staying with Remus.

He finally settled on a half-truth. “We had it planned this way for a couple months, Prongs. I didn't know if I'd be welcome at your house or not, so-”

“Yeah, well I'm telling you you're welcome. So let's go. Pack your shit.”

Sirius took a breath. It might be selfish, but he really, _really_ wanted to spend the short holiday with Remus. They hadn't had a proper shag since... blimey, _beginning of January_. And hardly any post-coital cuddling, which Sirius would never admit to missing under pain of _cruciatus_ _but he missed it loads_.

And he had it all set in his mind: they'd shag the second the other boys were safely on the Hogwarts Express, tearing each other's clothes off and going for the end product rather than the build-up. Then they'd sleep in the same bed the whole night. The next morning, with all the important stuff out of the way, Sirius would wake Remus up with a blow job. Maybe a rim job, depending what position Remus was in. Then they'd have slow, lazy morning sex. The next night, if they could manage it, they'd even try for some in front of the fireplace sex in the common room – with wards and warnings up and all, in case any other sleepless students wandered down in the middle of the night.

It was going to be brilliant.

When his eyes drifted back to James, Sirius' stomach dropped to his knees. He had that freaked-out, grossed-out expression on his face again. “You're going to _fuck_ , aren't you? You two have been planning this for months now, haven't you? You're... you're going to...”

“James,” Remus' soft voice cut through the tension in the room as he lay down his quill. “Please.”

“No! No, fucking...” James' glasses started to slip down his face, so he wrangled them back up his nose. “You're probably going to fuck on every available surface, aren't you?” Sirius would be lying to say the thought hadn't crossed his mind. “You're going to fuck _in my bed_!” Okay, _that_ had never occurred to Sirius. Gross.

“Potter, you fucking idiot,” Sirius ignored Remus pushing his hands to the ground in a silent attempt to tell Sirius to tone it down. “Why the _fuck_ would I want to screw my boyfriend in my brother's bed? That's like wanting to shag Remus in my parent's bed! Or in Kreacher's little nest, or something!” A collective shudder went through the Marauders. “See? Fucking gross.”

“Wanting another bloke to shove his cock up your arse is ' _fucking gross_ '!” James shouted.

Sirius was on his feet and halfway across the room before Remus and Peter jumped up to try and moderate the building argument. “Wanting to stick your tongue in a bird's pussy is fucking gross, you yeast-eating piece of shit!”

As James and Sirius came closer and closer to blows, Remus and Peter the only physical barriers preventing an actual fight, a thunderous stampede of students' feet started up on the stairwell. It was time to leave – for those who were.

Peter inserted himself between Sirius and James, pushing James back toward his trunk. “Let's go, James. Come on. Get your trunk.”

James snatched at his trunk, arm looking like it wrenched painfully in its socket as he yanked it toward the door. With an apologetic look Peter was off after him, lugging his significantly lighter rucksack with him.

Sirius couldn't resist one last jab. “Say 'hi' to the folks for me, Potter! Tell them Moony and I are thinking of them!”

“Fuck off, poofter!” James shouted over his shoulder, before practically throwing his trunk down the stairs and rushing off after it. The door slammed behind them, and Remus and Sirius were left alone in their dorm room.

Sirius turned to Remus, who was biting his lower lip and staring worriedly after the other two boys. Sirius stepped in quickly to soothe his worries the absolute surest way he knew how: with a sloppy snog pressed all over Remus' nibbling mouth. With a laugh Remus pulled away, expression decidedly less wretched.

“Padfoot,” he warned.

Sirius grinned, ignoring his own worry nibbling at his stomach. “Forget James,” he breathed, pressing his lips to Remus' again. Remus kissed back this time, smile spreading his lips and ruining the technique of the kiss. “He'll come back on side, once he's got a few days to cool off. We've already gotten him past the hard stuff.”

Remus nodded distractedly as he slowly melted beneath Sirius, who was well aware of the change he was affecting in his boyfriend. With a laugh that was certainly _not_ a giggle, Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus and scooped him up, throwing him over one shoulder.

“Pads!” Sirius laughed, ignoring Remus' fists half-heartedly beating at his back. “Pads! Put me down!”

“Sure thing,” Sirius teased, just before he tossed Remus onto his bed. Remus laughed as he bounced on the springy mattress, cut short almost immediately as Sirius fell down on top of him, snogging him senseless.

Robes were clawed at and tossed to the side as the boys tried to hasten the process of getting to feel skin on skin. Remus gasped beneath Sirius as he dipped his head, licking and then sucking at the first nipple exposed to the cool air of their dormitory. “Mm, Sirius,” he murmured. His fingers threaded between Sirius' locks, prompting him to glance up and see Remus' eyes closed, face relaxed in easy bliss. Sirius felt any leftover uneasiness about James quickly melt away before the warm glow of happiness that was spreading through his body.

Not to mention arousal. Sirius shifted and pressed his still-clothed erection against Remus' semi-clothed leg. He hummed around Remus' nipple, biting down gently before moving onto the other. Yeah, arousal was _definitely_ helping him forget all about James.

“Shit, forgot my- _fucking hell, you guys!_ ”

Lazily Sirius lifted his head, ignoring Remus' arms practically socking him in the chest to get him off. Peter was standing in the door, one hand clasped firmly over his eyes as the other flailed around in front of him. “Wormtail, what the _hell_ -” Sirius growled.

“Just forgot my bollocksing toothbrush! I didn't think you two'd be going at it already!”

Acquiescing to Remus' rather insistent flailing, Sirius crawled under the sheets with him and pulled them up to their chins. “Alright, Wormtail,” Sirius groused. “We're decent. Just get your bloody toothbrush and get out.”

Peter scrambled to the bathroom, still avoiding looking in the direction of Remus' bed the entire time. Sirius occupied himself by estimating exactly how hard his cock currently was, and how many more minutes he could stand just lying there and doing nothing about it.

Finally Peter scrambled out of the dorm, slamming the door shut behind him with a quick, flailing wave of his hand. “ _Finally_ ,” Sirius groaned, rolling over to Remus.

Who had, apparently, used the interruption to get fully naked.

Sirius' eyes widened, mouth following quickly in a grin. Without further preamble, Sirius winked roguishly at Remus before scrambling under the covers. Remus laughed and squirmed beneath him as Sirius slithered his way down Remus' naked body, hands smoothing over the scarred flesh, lips peppering every inch they could reach with adoring little kisses.

When he reached his goal, Sirius took a long minute to breathe in Remus' musky scent, rub his cheek against his erection, nuzzle his nose in his pubes. Then he took Remus into his mouth, bobbing up and down and sucking hard as Remus arched and hissed and writhed above him.

Sirius pulled away soon, pushing off covers and the last remnants of his own clothes as he sat back on his haunches. Remus was peering down at him, eyes glazed and mouth open as he panted. Sirius waggled his eyebrows before leaning down and drawing Remus into a long, languorous kiss.

When he pulled back they were both panting; Remus' lips were kiss-swollen and glistening with saliva, prompting Sirius to lean down and kiss them again, trying his damnedest to devour his boyfriend's mouth with lips and tongue, and a bit of teeth. Their hips undulated against each other, arousals sliding together as drops of precome and Sirius' saliva started to ease the movement of heated skin against heated skin.

“Alright, fucking hell.” Sirius pulled back from Remus, shaking his head as he squeezed Remus' shoulders tight beneath his hands. “I need you. Shit. Can-”

Remus nodded frantically, brown hair fanned out on the pillow beneath him like a halo. Sirius reached beneath him, searching for their sorely neglected lube that they normally kept under there. After a moment of fumbling his fingers closed around the little bottle and he yanked it free, struggling with the cap as Remus reached a hand up and stroked his arm.

“Wanna do it this way?” Sirius asked, gazing down at Remus. He looked so gorgeous like that: debauched, happy, like some sort of hedonistic, Roman god of youth and beauty. “'Cause I want to. So I can see you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Sirius realized how corny it sounded, so he blushed and looked away. But then Remus' hand was moving up to his cheek, stroking gently until Sirius risked a glance back down.

And Remus was beaming up at him. Of course. “Yeah, Sirius,” he whispered. “I'd love that.”

Sirius leaned down, brushing his lips over Remus' nose. A little cold pit of nervousness formed in his stomach as his emotions bubbled to the surface, shoved down and ignored for too long these last few months. “I love you, you know,” he murmured. “I mean, I don't say it much, but you know. Right? That I do?”

Pulling back just far enough to peer cautiously into Remus' eyes, Sirius was relived to see his same loving emotions reflected back at him. “Of course I know, Sirius,” Remus whispered, hand stroking at Sirius' cheek. “Of _course_. And I love you, too.” He paused, eyes flickering sadly as he sighed. “Even when you don't think. I might hate you in those moments,” he conceded, and Sirius felt his heart clench. But then Remus was smiling ruefully. “But I still – for whatever _mad_ reason – still love you.”

Sirius snogged Remus again for the declaration, bodies moving together as the two boys rediscovered that rhythm which had been so familiar to them at the beginning of the school year. Before everything had gone to hell.

Arousal growing ever-more insistent against his stomach, Sirius finally gave in to it and pulled away, tugging at Remus' ankles. Remus assisted him, lifting his legs up and positioning them on Sirius' shoulders, heels hanging down his back and knees crooked. Sirius grinned, hauling Remus' arse into position with his hands, giving it an extra squeeze or two for good measure. Remus was somehow still less hairy on his thighs and arse than Sirius, a fact Sirius found endlessly amusing whenever his fingers sliding over Remus' peach fuzz covered arse reminded him.

As Sirius slid a first finger into Remus, he watched Remus squirm and frown at the intrusion. “Take your time, yeah?” Remus prompted. “It's been a while, plus it's always tighter this way...”

Rubbing Remus' thigh with his free hand, Sirius shushed him. “I know, Moony. I'll make it good.”

Sirius squirmed and laughed as Remus' big toe made its way into his ear. “You'd better,” Remus warned, even as he sucked in a breath of air when Sirius slid a second lubricated finger in. “If this is no good for me, don't expect any reciproc- ah!”

Sirius grinned as Remus clenched around him, body arching upward. “What were you saying?” he teased as he continued to rub his fingers against Remus' prostate. “Something about...” he moved his fingers in steady anticlockwise circles against it. “Not being any good for you?”

Remus' thighs were quivering around Sirius' head, fingers clenching and unclenching at his bedsheets as he writhed under the ministrations of Sirius' careful fingers. “Fucking... okay, okay... Sirius, _please_.”

Acquiescing to Remus' breathy, half-formed demand, Sirius pulled his fingers out and re-lubricated them generously before sliding three smoothly in. He watched Remus' face for any sign of discomfort, pushing his fingers in as far as he could and stretching them wide, wriggling them around Remus' wet inner walls. Beneath him, Remus was humming approvingly, eyes shut and neck tight as he adjusted to the now-rare intrusion.

“Still feeling good?” His tone was teasing, but Sirius' question was a serious one as he slid his fingers out and spread the lube over his erection, making sure to coat it even more than he thought necessary. Better to be over-slicked and have to wipe some off than hurt Remus on that first breech.

Remus nodded, opening his eyes as he watched Sirius prepare himself. “Yeah. Ready.”

Reaching forward, Sirius took Remus' hand in his right, gripping his arse with his left. “Okay. Relax. Breathe.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but did as Sirius told him. Too many failed starts and embarrassing – and painful – mistakes over the years had led them to value caution and preparation over bodice-ripping sex like in those trashy novels Mrs. Potter liked to read.

As Sirius pushed into Remus, his eyes snapped shut, abused fingernails digging into Remus' arse. Their joined hands tightened around each other as Sirius continued his slide home, burying himself inside Remus until their bodies were flush. Sirius sighed, waiting a moment as Remus adjusted, stroking his thumb along the back of Remus' hand. It was a touch more lube than he'd like. But hell, it was already the longest sexual encounter they'd managed for three months, and Remus' comfort mattered a sight more than Sirius getting a bit more friction with each thrust. After all, Sirius wasn't about to _complain_ about getting to fuck his boyfriend.

Sirius felt a tug on his right hand, so he opened his eyes. Remus brought their clasped hands up to his lips, kissing the back of Sirius' with a shy smile. “Good.”

With a relieved sigh Sirius pulled out, sliding back into Remus with a wet slap. Both boys wrinkled their noses at the noise. “Hey, that was me making sure you wouldn't get hurt!” Sirius defended himself.

Remus pecked kisses to Sirius' captive fingers, then tugged their hands to rest beneath his chin. “I know. Keep going. Hopefully we'll get so horny we'll stop hearing it.”

Sirius started to move his hips slowly in and out, hauling Remus' arse closer as he tried to go deeper. “Dunno about you, but I think I'm already there,” he groaned, letting his head fall back. A groan from Remus answered him as their hips began to move more steadily. Sirius grunted again as he picked up pace. Fuck, _yes_ , this was good. His entire awareness was quickly narrowing down to that single point of motion between them, to the tight slide of his cock in and out of Remus' body.

Sirius adjusted his position further, hauling Remus up onto his thighs as he continued to thrust. Remus' free hand flew up, over his head, as his mouth fell open and a shout burst out. “Ah! Sirius, _there_.” Sirius nodded, blinking sweat from his eyes. He barely noticed Remus' free hand moving from his mouth to scramble at the headboard, fingernails scratching at the wood. He was too focused on his own mounting arousal to be aware of such minor details. So long as Remus felt good, Sirius was satisfied, and he could continue to focus on drawing out the maximum amount of pleasure he could.

And the _pleasure_ it was. _Fuck_. Sirius gasped, eyes squeezing shut as he continued to thrust into Remus. Every slide into that tight, wet heat made Sirius' nerves sing, body coming to life in ecstasy. His mind was gone, reduced to single-word reactions of _yes_ and _good_ and _moremoremore_. His speech was even more far gone, nothing more than animalistic grunts and groans and the occasional mumbled “Rem, Rem, Rem, _fuck Rem_ -” as he continued to thrust, pounding harder and faster.

One part of him wanted to make the pleasure last, to draw it out so he could feel like this for minutes, hours, _days_. Another part of him just wanted _more_ of it, better and faster and... Sirius groaned, thighs quivering with impending orgasm. Fuck patience. It was just too good: he needed more.

Beneath him, Remus was coming undone, tugging their joined hands up to his mouth so he could bite at them, as disjointed cries fell from his lips with Sirius' every powerful thrust. Saliva was dripping down their hands, Remus' teeth gnawing and slipping and grating at their knuckles as he tried to hold on, just a few seconds longer. His cock was bobbing between them with every thrust: a thick, moist shaft, precome flicking off of it as soon as it formed.

Sirius felt Remus start to come even before a last, desperate cry tore its way out of Remus' throat. His insides went taut, clenching around Sirius in impossibly exquisite perfection, drawing him to heights of arousal he hadn't thought possible without an actual orgasm. Remus' right hand tore at the headboard, his left squeezing Sirius' right to his cheek so hard Sirius thought Remus might have a bruise there come morning. Remus' body rose up off the bed, shoulders pressing back as his hips snapped up, cock twitching and spurting come all over his chest and stomach.

Sirius continued to thrust raggedly into that impossibly tight passage, fucking Remus through his orgasm and into Sirius' own. Just a few more desperate, stuttering thrusts and Sirius' was coming, body folding over itself and Remus' as he emptied himself inside. His mind went blank as his orgasm crested and crested, mouth falling open and incomprehensible noises pouring out to match his release.

When it finally ended, Sirius could do nothing more than collapse forward, like a tree felled in the forest. His skin smacked against Remus', sweaty flesh sliding over sweaty flesh as their bodies molded to each other's. Slowly he uncurled his fingers from Remus' hip, where he could feel the skin sticking just for a moment to his fingernails as he removed them. He let Remus keep his right hand hostage up by his cheek. Sirius lay. He breathed. He couldn't find it in him to do anything more.

A weak moan brought Sirius out of his post-coital reverie long enough for him to slide off Remus and slip to the side, nestled half-on, half-off Remus' chest. “Bollocks,” came a whispered curse in Sirius' ear.

That got his more cognizant attention. Rolling his weight onto his shoulder, Sirius peered over at Remus's face, centimeters from his own. “Huh?”

Remus grimaced, shaking his head. “Nothing. Go to sleep.”

Well now there was no _way_ Sirius was going to sleep after a suspicious comment like that. He levered himself upright, glancing down between them. Remus had come – even if Sirius hadn't remembered it happening, there was rapidly-drying evidence all over the two of them. He glanced down further, tugging gently at Remus' thighs. No bleeding, thank _Merlin_. He would have absolutely _died_ if he had hurt Remus that badly.

“Just sore,” Remus reassured him with a hand to his arm. “Lie back down, come on.” Sirius did, albeit reluctantly. “Just don't think I'll be up for that again for the next couple of days.”

Sirius nodded even as he snuggled his head into the crook of Remus' neck. “Was planning on that,” he yawned. “Just have to figure,” he yawned again, “some other stuff to do.”

Sirius could feel Remus' grin in his hair. “Go to sleep, Padfoot.”

“Any-fing for you, Moony,” Sirius teased, before falling asleep.

 


	7. Choice Six

 

Sirius tugged at Remus arm, trying to lead him to the joke shop. “Come _on_ , Moony!”

But Remus was busy gazing longingly at the relative calm and quiet of the Three Broomsticks. “No, Sirius. I'm knackered. Can't we just have a pint?”

Sirius sighed, glancing back and forth between Remus and Zonko's. Of course he wouldn't _mind_ spending a quiet little afternoon with Remus in the Three Broomsticks, enjoying a pint and playing footsie under the table. Plus, if they were comfortable and indoors, Remus might take off his jumper, mussing up his hair and exposing his pale collarbone that Sirius knew was hidden beneath all that wool.

On the other hand... Sirius pouted over at Zonko's, watching the throng of students flowing from the shop, like blood pumping in and out of a heart. He wanted to be a part of that crowd. He was running low on absolutely everything, and he desperately wanted to play at least one more major prank before the end of the year. After all, next year they'd be Seventh Years: upright citizens of the student body, too buried under scrolls upon scrolls of NEWTs notes and trying to graduate to spend much time on mischief. This was his last chance to do something really mad.

“Oi! Padfoot!” Sirius turned around, spotting James and Peter hurrying toward them in the crowd. James' face turned sour, just for a second, when his eyes landed on Sirius' hand clutching Remus' arm. With an apologetic squeeze Sirius let go, turning his attention to James.

“We're heading over to Zonko's,” Peter volunteered. “Coming?”

Sirius turned to Remus, grinning. It was three against one, now. “Come on, Moony. Just a quick nip into Zonko's, then we can spend the rest of the day sipping butterbeer.”

Remus still looked reluctant. Sirius could see that he was tired, and wanted to just sit down, but it wasn't like the full was the night before or anything. And he _really_ needed some pranking supplies.

“You boys don't look like you're up to anything good.” Lily appeared at Remus' elbow, arms crossed over her chest and long red hair cascading down over them.

James perked up immediately, mussing up his hair as he focused in on Lily. “You know us, Evans: never.” He grinned, big and wide. Sirius had to suppress a snicker as Lily rolled her eyes at him.

Sirius threw his thumb over his shoulder at Zonko's. “We were just heading for the joke shop. Care to-”

Remus interrupted him, scowling. “ _You_ were heading for the joke shop. _I_ wanted to go to the Three Broomsticks.”

Before Lily could get a word in edgeways James cut in, kicking his foot against the wet cobblestone. “Could you two _act_ any more gay? Having a row over where we're going next...”

Sirius was pleased to see Lily's face go dark at that, glaring at James like he was the vilest Slytherin who ever lived. Completely ignoring him, she turned to Remus with a sugar-sweet smile. “Would you care to join me in the Three Broomsticks, Remus?”

After a quick check with Sirius, who nodded his agreement immediately, Remus turned back to Lily and stuck out his arm. She took it with a giggle. “That sounds divine, Lily. See you boys later.”

“Later, Moony!” Sirius called, bounding off toward Zonko's. That was perfect. Now he didn't have to worry about keeping Remus company in the Three Broomsticks, _and_ he got to restock on his pranking supplies. Lily could be an all right bird, at times. He turned to tell James as much, only to find the other boy wasn't at his elbow. Twirling around rather ungracefully on one foot, Sirius scanned the crowd of Hogwarts students. James was still back where they had parted from Lily and Remus, staring in the direction of the Three Broomsticks.

Sirius jogged back over to James, shooting a glance at Peter in the meantime. Peter could only shrug, just as in the dark as Sirius was. “Oi, Prongs: let's go. Everything's going to be picked over if we don't get in there now.”

James turned his head and glowered at Sirius, before turning back to the Three Broomsticks. “What the hell?” he grumbled. “Who does she think she is, going on a date with Remus right in front of me?”

It was only due to a significant _look_ from Peter that Sirius managed to suppress an incredulous snort. “Mate, in case you forgot, Remus is gay as a maypole. Trust me: I know.”

With a little bit of cajoling from Peter, James eventually turned away from the Three Broomsticks and started down the street to Zonko's. He grumbled, kicking at loose cobblestones as they walked. “Dunno why Evans keeps treating me like I'm lower than fucking Snivellus. I saved his life, if you recall. And yours, and Remus'.”

Sirius chose to ignore that reminder of his past idiocy, and instead focus on James' current character flaws. It was easier, that way. “Maybe if you weren't such an arse to Remus, who, if you recall, _is_ one of Lily's best friends. Especially after that whole Snivellus falling-out she had last year.”

“Remus is one of my best mates, too!” One of James' arms darted out and slapped the sign in front of Honeydukes as they walked past.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you actually treated him like one, Lily might take notice,” Peter said. James seemed suitably chastised with the reminder, enough that Sirius didn't point out Peter's exact rightness in his assessment. And anyways, they were at Zonko's: all idle chatter must stop in favor of very important prank-planning discussions.

Pushing his way through the crowd, Sirius gasped as his eyes flew over the new stock: dungbombs and hiccough sweets and frog spawn soap... he had to buy Moony some sugarquills, to make up for dumping him on Lily this afternoon. Oh, but they had a whole new supply of nose-biting teacup sets, complete with the insta-break saucers. _No one_ carried those! And in another section that had exploding stirrers, which of course could go brilliantly with the set. Maybe he'd send the whole package off to his little brother for his birthday next year – one last jab at that sadly un-errant Slytherin.

Arms over-laden with purchases, Sirius pushed his way to the front counter. The other customers made way for him – after six years, the Hogwarts students knew it was best to leave the Marauders to their pranks and just try not to get caught in their crosshairs. His purchases cascaded out onto the counter as he set them down, some of them falling off before Sirius pulled out his wand and levitated them back onto the counter. The shopkeeper raised a tired, bushy grey eyebrow at Sirius. “Restocking, are we?”

Sirius flashed one of his most mischievous winks. “Well, old Dumbles _did_ ask us to keep our 'spirits up in such trying times'. I'm just doing my part.”

The old shopkeeper nodded, skeptical eyebrow still raised to the vaulted ceiling of Zonko's. He started ringing up the items and placing them in a bag as Sirius waited, drumming his fingers absently on the countertop and scanning the store with an accomplished eye.

The change in the students was subtle, at first: the sounds of laughter and shouting outside the shop took on a terrified edge, barely discernible from the interior of Zonko's, above the roar of laughter of the students safely ensconced inside. But then the panic outside started spreading inside, and students began rushing for the exit, cries of dismay and fear reverberating through Zonko's great walls.

Just as Sirius was starting to take notice, James and Peter appeared at his elbow, arms overburdened with their own purchases. “What d'you reckon is going on?” James asked. The three boys frowned out at the shop as more and more students poured out, racing down the streets in a frightened mob.

Sirius shrugged, turning to look for someone who knew more than he did. Then the shouts of “attack!” and “Death Eaters!” reached his ears. Peter's eyes went wide. “Oh, bleedin' hell.” He looked between James and Sirius. “D'you think it was anyone we know?”

A cold spike of fear went through Sirius as he looked at the flow of the panicking students out the storefront. “They're all heading down the road,” he whispered. “Toward the Three Broomsticks.” With one horrified glance between the three boys, they were off, pranks and sugar quills forgotten inside Zonko's as they forced their way through the crowd.

As they tried to elbow their way through angry students heading toward the commotion, crying students frozen in place, and students running away in terror, they managed to pick up on shouted rumors of what had happened. It was a Death Eater attack, that much all the reports seemed to agree on. Sirius couldn't believe that Voldemort's fringe party had gained so much power. The audacity: attacking Hogwarts students in broad daylight!

Sirius flung out arms and elbows, shoving aside the fleeing students without a moment's thought to doling out a few bruises or bloody noses. The swarm of wide-eyed, terrified youngsters was just slowing him down, making it more difficult for Sirius to get to his Remus. Sirius growled as he threw a second-year boy aside who was standing stock-still in the middle of the road. He needed to get to Remus.

The closer they got to the Three Broomsticks, the more the rumors solidified. It seemed two students were attacked: a boy and a girl. Now Sirius was scared. Really scared. So scared that he almost froze in terror, before his entire body seemed to fall forward, legs and arms and torso all moving in a disjointed scramble down the road, propelling him farther forward. His body's movements weren't even voluntary – his entire being was just given over to getting to Remus, to making sure he was safe, and helping him if he was not. He couldn't have stopped his rush forward if he even wanted to.

He left James and Peter behind, racing his way through the crowd with a speed he couldn't even recall later. All he knew was one second he was in front of Honeydukes, a crowd a dozen students wide and five students a square meter dense in front of him, and the next he was outside the Three Broomsticks, eyes darting around at the scene in front of him. His breath came in terrified, lung-shattering pants, heart feeling like it was about to pump up through his throat and out his mouth. His entire body was shaking, veritably vibrating with fear or rage, Sirius hadn't the soundness of mind to examine which.

In the clearing formed by terrified students in front of the Three Broomsticks, Sirius could see the remnants of a dangerous duel. There were scorch marks on the outside of the restaurant itself, and on the cobblestone ground in front. The hanging sign in front of the Three Broomsticks was still flapping back and forth, smoke rising from it as a small fire smoldered on the wood. The charge of dark magic in the surrounding air was cloying, causing Sirius' eyes to tear up and throat to constrict. He pressed his sleeve to his nose as he continued to scan the scene with desperate, watery eyes.

Through the crowd of students Sirius spotted a bright shot of red hair. He rushed over to it, shoving students out of his way and ignoring cries of shock and dismay that followed him like a ship's wake in the water. As he drew closer, he could see the hair was attached to Lily who, although upset and wide-eyed as every other student, didn't seem to be injured.

Another dozen steps, and Sirius broke through the crowd not a meter from a familiar scarred face and light brown hair. “Remus!” Remus' eyes widened in relief at the sound of his name, searching gaze meeting Sirius' in an instant. In the next, Sirius was in Remus' arms, kissing the life out of him and never, ever wanting to let go.

“Remus, oh Merlin, Remus,” Sirius whispered, kissing and kissing and kissing Remus' lips over and over again between words. His hands clutched at Remus' face, body pressed flush against his in a desperate bid for contact. Remus, for his part, was imitating Sirius in position and intensity: hands gripped tight to Sirius' jaw, fingers digging into his cheeks. A whine rose in the back of Sirius' throat as he kissed Remus, and on the edge of his consciousness he registered an answering growl from Remus.

When his need to speak overwhelmed his need for kisses, Sirius buried his face in Remus' neck, squeezing him tighter and pulling him closer. His hand came up to the back of Remus' head, fingers twining through the soft hair back there. Remus' arms were wrapped tight around him, bony bodies knocking almost painfully into each other through jumpers and trousers. “Oh Merlin, Remus: I thought it was you. I thought it was you and Lily, oh-” he stopped speaking, a sob wrenching its way out of his throat and cutting him off.

“'m fine. 'm fine, Padfoot.” Remus' arms were rubbing Sirius' back roughly, fingers splayed out as wide as they could go, as if the more parts of Sirius' body Remus could cover with his own the better. “I thought _you_ were in the middle of it,” he whispered into Sirius' ear. “I thought you had gone and done something _stupid_ , and _heroic_ , and _just bloody like you_ , and... and...” Sirius felt hot tears prick at his neck as Remus struggled to find his voice. “You stupid berk!” Remus gasped. “You probably _would have_ done something idiotic, wouldn't you?! Oh Sirius, I can't even-”

“I'm so sorry I left you,” Sirius cried, squeezing Remus harder. His hand buried in Remus' hair clenched and unclenched through his internal torment. “I'm sorry I left you with Lily. If I had been here, if I had just stayed with you...”

“Padfoot, you stupid berk.” Remus' laugh was terrified and tearful, but it was still a laugh. “Nothing happened. And Lily and I can defend ourselves. You're _allowed_ to be away from me once in a while, to not always be here-”

Sirius pulled away from Remus' neck, only to yank him into another breath-stealing kiss. Their lips smacked loudly as Sirius tore himself away. “I'm here.” His voice trembled. “I'm _here_. And you're here. And-”

Abruptly Sirius realized where “here” was: in the middle of Hogsmeade, at the center of a disturbance where the entire student population was congregated. He leaned away from Remus – not breaking contact, not even Voldemort and his thugs could make Sirius do that at the moment – but far enough away that their proximity was less intimate.

James, Lily, and Peter were the closest students to them. Lily was preoccupied with pulling herself away from James, a bit of her fear receding as she replaced it with healthy doses of contempt. “I'm _fine_ , Potter,” she sniffed. “Remus and I were inside for the whole thing. Not a scratch on us.”

Apparently for the first time, James turned to Remus, spotting the two boyfriends with their arms still wrapped tight around each other. His face contorted, visage turning disgusted before he painstakingly wrestled it back to concerned. Sirius almost felt like applauding him for the effort, but he wasn't about to take his arms away from Remus – not to applaud James, or appease him. “You're okay then, Remus?” he grunted.

Remus nodded, pulling Sirius just a little bit closer as he did. Sirius went easily, leaning into Remus' form. “Fine,” Remus confirmed. “We didn't even see it. We were more afraid that you lot had gone and done something stupid like getting involved.”

James looked around the street, eyes landing on the scorch marks above the door to the Three Broomsticks. “Bloody right we would have,” he growled. “Who the fuck do these 'Death Eaters' think they are? And with a right poofy name like- er-” he stopped, eyes darting between Sirius and Remus, then down to where their arms were wrapped around each other. “Well: you know. They're...” his gaze drifted to Lily, who was actually tapping her foot as she waited for him to try and dig himself out of his hole. “Whatever,” he finally settled on. “Bunch of arses.”

“Veritably lyrical, Potter,” Lily sneered, throwing her hair over her shoulder.

Sirius turned back to Remus, running his free hand that wasn't wrapped around his waist over Remus' hair, cheek, and neck. Remus started to copy him, but only got as far as Sirius' hair before he was tugging Sirius in for another kiss, tears mixing with saliva as they reaffirmed each other's wellness. Sirius could feel tremors passing between them, but couldn't tell if it was Remus, or him, or both who was shaking. He didn't even care: all he wanted was to hold Remus safe in his arms.

A flash of light ignited in the air above the scene, causing Sirius and Remus to fall apart. Their hands stayed securely wrapped around each other's arms as they stumbled, gazing up with the rest of the student population at the sky. As the light faded, Dumbledore came storming into the street, eyes blazing and wand raised. Sirius blinked, clutching harder to Remus' arm. He had never seen in the old man the intimidating Dumbledore, the Dumbledore who defeated Grindelwald. Now he did.

As the students parted, Sirius caught a glimpse of two students clutching to each other on the ground, faces sweaty and covered in soot, but looking relatively uninjured. He recognized them: they were Alice and Frank, a couple in their own year. Sirius gasped, turning to his friends. They had seen, too.

Dumbledore was crouched in front of the two students, talking to them with a sort of intensity Sirius could only hope he never had to face. After a moment he stood, reaching down an arm to help the two shaking sixth-years to their feet. Without a word to the crowd he ushered them off to the castle, and they were gone in a swirl of his headmaster's robes.

“Holy hell,” Peter breathed. “Alice and Frank.”

Remus nodded his agreement. “But they seemed fine. It looked like they managed to defend themselves.”

James and Sirius shared a look before James spoke. “Frank's a dependable bloke. And no slouch in any of the courses.”

Lily, who Sirius had almost forgot was still with them, piped up her agreement. “Alice is no slouch, either. Remember it was her who hexed Narcissa's hair to fall out back in second year? Of course, Lucius nearly killed her with that tapeworm hex, but to speak to her, you wouldn't have known it was even half as bad as it was.”

Peter swallowed. “Do... d'you reckon this is just the start? That Voldemort really means to do something?”

Sirius scoffed. “What's he going to do? I mean, just look: his cronies couldn't take out two sixth-year students strolling along Hogsmeade on a date. If _that's_ what his supporters are like, then come on: let him try and start something.”

Remus and Lily were quiet as they shared a look. Sirius knew they weren't convinced, and honestly, neither was he. But what was the worst this Voldemort bloke could do, anyway? His supporters were all pureblood extremists, a minority in the wizarding world: he'd never gain power in the Ministry with backing like that, and if he wanted to start a fight, he was outnumbered thousands to one. The second he got caught doing anything _really_ illegal, anything more than just these back-alley skirmishes and half-hearted muggings, it'd be over. He'd be locked away in Azkaban, and that'd be that.

The students around them were beginning to calm down and disperse: some heading back to Hogsmeade to finish their day, most heading back to the safety of the castle. Sirius let his hand fall from Remus' arm to his hand, twining their fingers together. “Come on,” he raised his voice to the group at large, but his eyes stayed focused on Remus'.

James turned to Lily, eyes shining with sincerity. “Walk back with us, Lily. Please?”

With a quick glance around Hogsmeade while biting her lower lip, Lily nodded. “Alright, Potter,” she acquiesced. “Safety in numbers, and all that.”

They started back to the castle with the rest of the Hogwarts student body. Forgotten were the prank supplies on Zonko's counter and warm meals in the Three Broomsticks. Sirius didn't let go of Remus' hand the entire walk back. For his part, James' expression was conflicted every time he glanced over and saw the intertwined fingers, but he didn't say a word against it.

 

 


	8. Choice Seven

 

Sirius sighed as he sat back in his seat on the Hogwarts Express, snuggling up to the wall as he waited for Remus to finish his prefect rounds. He had offered – in full sincerity – to do the rounds for Remus: it was only two days after full, and Remus wasn't yet up to full strength. But Remus had muttered something about protecting the student body from Sirius' end-of-the-year exuberance, smacked him on the bum, and sent him off to save them both a seat.

Sirius stretched his feet out on the bench, grinning up at James and Peter as they walked in. James nodded down at the bench that Sirius was currently sprawled across. “Oi: wanker. Move your feet.”

Sirius shook his head. “Saved.”

This deceleration was met by a frown from James, followed by his leg darting out and kicking Sirius in the shin. Automatically Sirius flung his leg out, kicking back, and before he knew it a scuffle had ensued between him and James over the seat. “Just sit... the other... side!” Sirius managed to grunt out between kicks.

“Lemme... sit!” James growled back. He had now progressed to half-sitting on Sirius' legs as he tried to shove them off the bench to make room for himself.

“It's saved... for... Moony!” Sirius almost jumped up when his shouting of Remus' name coincided with the young man himself sliding open the compartment door and peering in. For a moment he stared, bewildered, at James and Sirius as they continued to struggle weakly over the seat. Finally Sirius managed to shove James to the ground, gesticulating wildly for Remus to sit down while he could. Bemusement still his predominant expression, Remus dropped into the seat without a second's thought. James growled up at them from the floor.

Sirius launched himself at Remus' side, hugging him tight with his cheek pressed against Remus' arm. He stuck his tongue out to James, who scoffed as he pushed himself up from the ground. With an attempt at a dignified sniff, James straightened his shirt and brushed imaginary dust from his arm, shooting glares at Sirius and Remus the whole time. He dropped down into the opposite bench with a thud, then crossed his arms and started pointedly out the window.

Beneath his tight embrace, Sirius felt Remus squirming uncomfortably. He pulled away, looking concernedly at Remus. The other boy's face was pale and drawn, but no more so than usual this soon after the full. He smiled weakly over at Sirius, bags under his eyes crinkling as he did. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you to find the snack trolley and buy me some chocolate?”

Sirius was up in an instant, shaking his head viciously as he dug around in his pockets for coin. “'Course not.” He smiled down at Remus, who was curling up against the window: legs tucked up underneath him on the bench, arms pulled in close to his chest. Sirius leaned down and brushed a soft hand over Remus' forehead – checking, as he always did, for fever or cold sweat. He found none. Remus smiled tiredly up at him. “I'll buy out the whole trolley for you, if you want.”

Remus' eyes twinkled. “I think just a handful of chocolate frogs will be fine, Sirius.”

“Oi, oi: easy on the public displays, you two.”

Pulling his hand away from Remus, Sirius turned to James. He was sat on the bench with Peter, looking decidedly uncomfortable as he squirmed and shifted in his seat.

Sirius sighed, but moved away from Remus. James wasn't cursing them or storming out in disgust, so it was decidedly progress. Best not to push that progress past the point James was willing to go, yet.

As Sirius headed for the door, James called out behind him. “Hey, grab me some Every Flavored Beans and Fizzing Whizzbees, would you?”

Throwing a flippant hand over his shoulder, Sirius scoffed. “Get 'em yourself. What am I: your house-elf?” There was a grin on Sirius' lips as he turned back to James, laughing at his brother. But then his amusement disappeared, thunderous expression on James' face effectively wiping the smirk clear off Sirius' face. He frowned, but before he could even ask, James was shouting.

“You fucking _jump_ when your boyfriend asks for sweets!” Sirius' mouth fell open, speechless. James continued, slapping a hand to his own chest. “But I ask you to pick something up while you're there and you fucking shoot me down? Some brother you are!”

Sirius found his voice again. “He's _sick_ , you prat!” He gestured over at Remus, who was indeed looking rather pathetically wan.

“Yeah, well I'm _sick_ of you waiting on him hand and foot while completely ignoring me!”

Sirius growled. He really didn't feel like dealing with this, right now. He just wanted a nice, relaxing ride back to London, maybe a little cuddle with Remus on the way. What he decidedly _didn't_ want was to start yet _another_ fight with James over Remus. “I don't _always_ pick Remus over you,” Sirius argued.

“Oh really?” James held out his hand, ticking off incidents on each finger. “You spent the first half of the term not talking to me-”

“ _You_ weren't talking to _me_!” Sirius pointed out, but James wasn't listening.

“You missed my Quidditch match against Slytherin just to sit by his bedside, even though Madame Pomfrey takes care of him every full. You stayed with him over Easter hols, instead of coming home with me-”

Sirius decided to try and beat James at his own idiocy: sticking his hand in James' face and ticking off at his own digits. “I missed our Valentine's Day date to take care of your stupid, pissed self; I partnered with you in potions even though you're shite at it and Remus and I are ace.” Sirius' voice cracked as he shouted his last point: “And I left Remus in _danger_ just to go to Zonko's with you!”

James scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whatever. Go be your boyfriend's bitch: go on, like a good little Black.”

Shooting James a patented Black sneer, Sirius turned on his heel and stormed out of the compartment. He went in search for the snack trolley: he'd make sure to get Remus a whole heaping pile of chocolates, and none of James' favorites. Show that stupid berk what's what.

When Sirius returned, it was to an almost-empty compartment. The only Marauder still in it was Remus, who was still curled up against the window. His eyes were shut, light lashes shining against his cheeks in the sunlight from the window. His breath fogged the glass slightly with every puff of exhaled breath.

Sirius shut the compartment door with a quiet snick, but Remus awoke anyway, blinking tired eyes at Sirius as he offered a small smile up to him. “James said he wanted to leave us some time alone before we separate for the hols. Dragged Pete with him.”

Sirius snorted as he threw himself onto the bench with Remus. He handed his rucksack over to Remus, which was filled to the brim with just about every piece of chocolate from the trolley. Remus rolled his eyes, but said nothing as he picked a chocolate frog from the top of the heap. “Bet James didn't put it quite so nicely,” Sirius prodded.

Remus sighed, though if it was a sigh of bliss from the chocolate slowly melting on his tongue, or a sigh of exasperation for James' antics, Sirius couldn't quite be sure. “He might have thrown the word 'poofters' around,” Remus admitted. “And I don't think he was leaving us alone as a way of giving us his blessing to snog.”

Crumpling up his card – Albus Dumbledore, what collector ever needed one of those? – Sirius chucked it at the far wall as he grouched in his seat. He settled down, arms crossed across his chest and legs stuck far out in front of him. Remus was still curled up in on himself – Sirius knew it was because to uncurl meant popping joints and complaining muscles. “When do you think he'll come around?” Sirius finally ventured.

“He _has_ , Pads,” Remus murmured. His eyes were drooping into sleep again, even with an unmistakable bulge of chocolate distorting his cheek. “He's talking to us, and you're going back home with him for the whole summer. He just... has his moments.”

Those things weren't what Sirius was worried about, though. He knew he'd always be welcome at the Potters', and even if he wasn't, he had that Uncle Alfred that he wrote on occasion. And Sirius didn't want James to just be on speaking terms with him: he wanted his _brother_ back, the bloke who was always ready to protect him and stand up for him, and who he could laugh at and prank and do terrible, stupid things to, but somehow still be forgiven through it all. James wasn't back to being that brother. Not yet.

He still had his boyfriend, though. Sirius smiled softly as he watched Remus nod off, head bobbing as he fell asleep, then jerked himself awake, then repeated the cycle over and over. When his head bobbed far enough to crack against the window, Remus jerked awake, pouting and rubbing his forehead. Sirius laughed. “Come here,” he murmured. He held out his arms for Remus, using careful, massaging fingers to gently coax Remus' limbs back against his body. When Remus was finally settled, he was spread out across the bench, head in Sirius' lap.

Sirius combed quieting fingers through Remus' hair, watching with a smile as Remus started to drift back to sleep. “We could actually use this time to snog, you know,” he teased before Remus well and truly drifted off.

“Not enough energy,” Remus murmured. “Wouldn't want to disappoint.” Sirius snickered for a moment, then stopped out of curiosity when Remus cracked an eye open. “How's about a goodnight kiss, though?”

Sirius chortled at Remus' cheek, before bending down and snogging him thoroughly. Remus hummed when Sirius pulled away, eyes still closed as he licked his lips. “'s nice,” he murmured. “Night, Pads.”

“I'll wake you when we're close,” Sirius whispered. Remus' soft, even breathing was his reply.

When the door to their compartment swung open twenty minutes later, Sirius lifted a finger to his lips automatically, ready to hex the new interlopers straight into the Headless Hunt if they disturbed Remus. The two people walking through the door turned out to be Peter and a still grouchy looking James.

After a moment of eyes darting between the three boys, Sirius ventured a cautious: “Pete. James. 'right?”

Peter and James both nodded back at Sirius, even if James' was a bit stilted. “Ai,” James grunted back. His eyes seemed to stutter as they scanned over Remus' head in Sirius' lap, but then they continued on their way, finally coming to rest on some indiscernible spot on the floor.

Seeing James sitting there, now more pouting than angry, made Sirius reconsider his earlier harsh declarations. He should really give some of his chocolate to James and Peter, as a peace offering. Merlin knew Remus wouldn't finish it on the train, and he wouldn't want to take Sirius' rucksack full of chocolates home for the summer.

Just as Sirius was about to get James' attention, the train shuddered beneath them. There was a moment during which the three awake boys in the cabin exchanged confused glances, James leaning forward in an attempt to glance out the window. Before Sirius had time to even question James on what he saw, the train lurched to a halt, throwing him and Remus flying off their bench and across the cabin. Remus shouted in pain, tears welling up in his eyes as stiff muscles rolled into the bottom of James and Peter's bench. “Sirius!” he shouted. “Some wake-up!”

Sirius was scrambling desperately to Remus' side, to try and see if there was anything he could do to fix the aches and pains. “Sorry, sorry!” He glanced desperately around the cabin. “I don't know what happened!”

With a little help from Sirius, Remus managed to get to his feet, stretching his muscles gingerly and cracking stiff joints. As Sirius' mind was set at ease in regards to Remus, a new worry wormed its way in. “What happened?” he wondered. “We're not even close to King's Cross.”

James was stood by the window, peering out over the green landscape. Sirius' worry solidified when James reached for his wand. “We've been stopped,” James declared, turning back to the Marauders with wide eyes. “They look like Voldemort's fellows. Those Death Eaters.”

Four wands were out and ready in an instant in the small cabin. Sirius rushed to join James at the window, while Remus and Peter turned to face the cabin door. He peered out over the countryside, looking for what James had seen.

Sure enough, there they were. Sirius counted at least a dozen on this side of the train alone: cloaked individuals, ugly masks secured tight to their face. A couple of them were aiming their wands at the train, apparently in a constant state of spell casting. Sirius figured they had stopped the train in the first place. The others were scattering: spreading out up and down the train, each one heading for an entrance.

Sirius spun away from the window as he saw one of the masked figures approach the entrance nearest them. “Oh bollocks,” was all he managed to get out before an explosion rocked their cabin, sending the boys flying to the floor and into a world of hell.

  
  



	9. Choice Eight

 

They hadn't planned anything. One minute they were picking themselves up from the cabin floor, the next curses were flying over their heads and it was all Sirius could do to keep throwing up counterspell after counterspell after counterspell. Somehow Sirius found himself pushing his way out of the cabin and into the hall, trying desperately to get a handle on the situation.

The smoke in the cabin from the initial explosion was thick. The only things discernible through it was the side of the halls, but even that was only for a meter or so in either direction. After that, the world was just flashes of light amid thick fog.

He heard Remus' unmistakable shout coming from his right, but when he spun to head towards the noise he ran straight into a wall. Wincing, Sirius pulled back as he clutched at his nose. The smoke might be thick, but he could still see well enough to catch a glimpse of red blood spilling out over his fingers and dripping down his arm. With a strangled gasp through his mouth, Sirius managed to get enough breath in his lungs to blow the blood out of his nose, spraying fat red droplets everywhere. He sniffed more clearly and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Time to worry about that later.

A flash of red came at him, and instinctively Sirius raised his wand and swatted it away. His counterspell was weak, so the spell still managed to graze his left shoulder. He gasped and fell to one knee, pain lancing through his arm. It was a cruciatus. A _cruciatus_. He hadn't felt one of those since he was a child, back before his father died and after everyone already sensed Sirius was a black sheep in the making.

Sirius slammed himself to the side wall as he saw another flash of red heading for him out of the fog, firing back a stupefy in the general direction of the indiscernible spellcaster. If these Death Eaters were using Unforgiveables, they weren't just some low level thugs. Firing a cruciatus at a Hogwarts student unprovoked on the Hogwarts Express was madness. Azkaban-level madness.

A laugh tore through the smoke: a high, cackling, absolutely mad laugh. The blood froze in Sirius' veins. He _knew_ that laugh. He _knew_ that madness.

“Bella!” he roared, throwing himself off the wall and racing forward blindly into the smoke. He threw a dozen stupefies out in front of him, the red spells flying from his wand so rapidly that there wasn't a visible space between one and the next. He knew they weren't going to get through Bellatrix's defenses: she was nearly a decade older than him, and a powerful witch, to boot. But the constant stream of spells she was having to block meant that he _could_ see more clearly where she was, as his stupefy spells crackled red around her, illuminating her as an eerie red sphere in the smoke-filled cabin.

“ _Sirius_!” she purred, hopping from foot to foot as Sirius drew himself up in front of her. “What's my prettiest cousin doing on the Hoggie-Woggie-Warts train? Coming home from schoolsies?”

Sirius looked down contemptuously on his cousin, trying his best to stop his wand hand from trembling violently. Annoying bitch that his cousin may be, Sirius knew he was right to be terrified of her. She was mad in that reckless Black way they all were, making her unpredictable at the best of times. And if the quite rumblings among the pureblood community were good for anything – and such rumors usually were disturbingly accurate in all their lurid details – she was _entirely_ devoted to Voldemort.

Mustering an amount of Gryffindor courage he in no way remotely felt, Sirius cocked an eyebrow at Bellatrix. “How's Rudy doing these days? Does he know you've signed up with this Voldemort bloke? Because the things I've heard,” Sirius pressed his lips into an “o” and let out a disapproving sigh. “Not good for the family reputation, Bellatrix.”

Casually Bellatrix spun her wand around in her hand, sparks flying as it moved rapidly between her fingers. Sirius felt a small shiver, recognizing his own gesture mirrored in his mad cousin. “Rudolphous has signed up, too,” she answered. “He saw the logic in the Dark Lord's plans. Most of the purebloods have, Sirius. You should come join us now: redeem yourself in your dear mother's eyes. You know, she's never had quite the same life in her since your father died. Would be such a shame for that inheritance to go to your little brother, rather than to you.” She took a step closer, eyes gone wide as she hurried on, excitement dripping from her every word. “Come on, cousin. Wouldn't you rather be on the same side as your family? The side with the power? Those little friends you have won't last for long. Time to become a man, little Sirius. Time to choose the people who will be with you to the day you die.”

Sirius scoffed, taking a step back. His cousin's eyes flashed wickedly at the small sign of weakness, but he ignored it. “'Dark Lord'?” he instead mocked. “Is that what you call him in bed, Bellatrix? Bit a mouthful, but then again I suppose serving under him you're used to _mouthfuls_ , eh?”

The breath flew from his lungs as Bellatrix slashed her wand down, her whole arm thrown behind the force of her spell. Sirius found himself gripped around the throat by an invisible hand, rattling him around like a child's doll. He couldn't breathe as Bellatrix swung her arm from side to side, crashing Sirius against the walls of the narrow hallway. His feet scrambled through the air beneath him, right arm struggling to raise his wand. Beneath him, Bellatrix's eyes were glittering with sadistic mirth.

With a violent, wrenching motion, Sirius managed to point his wand in front of him and blast a stupefy at Bellatrix. It didn't do any damage, but it forced her to take her concentration away from Sirius long enough for him to throw a shield up in front of him. Her retaliatory spell was something Sirius didn't recognize, but it made a sickening slurping noise as it slapped against his shield, jolting him forwards a foot as he fought against its pull. Bellatrix was laughing again as she watched him struggle.

“You're one to talk about full mouths, little cousin. People have been talking – the pureblood community is well aware of the three little rentboys you strut around Gryffindor tower with. Or do I have that backwards? Perhaps you're the one doing all the servicing.” She sidled closer, tracing her wand gently across the surface of Sirius' shield. His knees trembled, sweat falling into his eyes with the force of keeping his shield up in the face of her magic. Even a careless, delicate gesture like she was doing was causing sparks to fly from her wand and Sirius' head to swim with the effort.

She continued, as if she couldn't even see his struggle. “Which ones are they? The Potter boy is one of them, isn't he? You're even _living_ with him now, so I've heard. _That_ one has to be the one, right, little cousin?”

Sirius mustered a sneer that was all bared teeth and flared nostrils, but didn't say a word. So Bellatrix continued.

“I don't suppose it's that Pettigrew, is it? Ugly, fat little boy. You've always liked them pretty, after all. Remember how you tried to play with Lucius' hair when you were five? Orion got you good for that, didn't he?”

Sirius' vision swam, knees buckling. He dropped to one, wand arm still out and shield still up. Bellatrix cocked her head at this, poking and prodding at Sirius' shield curiously. It held, but she looked at Sirius with all the surety of a cat holding a mouse between its paws. She knew it wouldn't be long now.

“Who's the last one? Lupin, I think. Well,” Bellatrix rolled her eyes, taking her wand away from Sirius' shield to pick at her fingernails with it. “He's some half-blood, isn't he? Isn't worth the dirt on the heel of my pumps.”

Sirius tried to keep his face neutral. Of course he tried. For all his Gryffindor stupid braveness, he still was raised a Black. He knew even the slightest bit of information could be used against him – especially if that information was who he loved.

But Bellatrix's eyes widened at whatever she saw in Sirius' expression, grin broadening until it split her face in two. “It's _him_ , isn't it?! That _Lupin_ boy!” She clapped her hands together, dancing around gleefully. When she turned back to Sirius she sucked in a deep breath, entire countenance aglow with the revelation. “Just _wait_ until the Dark Lord hears about _this_. We'll get you yet, Sirius. You might as well join our side now, because now I know.” She hit the side of her head, as if securing the knowledge in place. With a skip in her step she strode forward, pressing her face against Sirius' shield. “I _know_ Sirius. And I will _destroy_ that boy of yours, until the day you bend knee and serve my master.”

With a roar Sirius lowered his shield, causing Bellatrix to stumble forward in shock. Before she had time to recover, Sirius had already rounded on her, pointing his wand at her head and shouting “Obliviate!” with all the breath in his body. Bellatrix turned to him, reaching out... and then collapsed on the floor, eyes falling shut as the spell worked through her mind.

“Sirius!”

Sirius turned to the shout, scanning the smoke with wand raised. Peter burst forth a moment later, at a dead run through the hall of the passenger car. “Outside!” he shouted.

Without thinking Sirius turned to follow him, racing out of the smoke-filled air of the hallways and into the relatively clear air outside. “Where are they?” Sirius gasped as they ran, dodging spells and throwing counters over their shoulders and in front of them. “James and Remus?”

Peter shook his head as they reached the end of the car, leaping down the stairs and out on the grass. “James said get everyone out; he was on the other end.”

Spells were still flying outside, but Sirius could at least _see_ now that they were in the open air. A large group of students were gathered at the other end of the field, older kids in front protecting the smaller kids in back, firing spells at a group of Death Eaters that seemed to be taunting them. Peter pointed at them. “James,” he indicated.

Sirius nodded, catching his breath. James was indeed at the front of the group: glasses flashing in the light of all the spells, an arm held out to the kids behind them as he stood straight and tall against the Death Eaters. A shock of red hair was next to him: Lily, in all her fierce Gryffindor glory. She appeared to be battling the Death Eaters with every bit of venom and fury as James next to her, defiantly standing up the Death Eaters as she protected the children behind her.

Sirius started heading over to James, to help protect the students and duel against the Death Eaters. Peter was heading the same direction as him, jogging just a step ahead. But then a noise to his left made Sirius pause in his stride.

Whipping his head to the left, Sirius saw a smaller group of students cuddled in a circle, two Death Eaters slowly stalking toward them. With a shock that he felt through his entire system, Sirius realized that Remus was at the head of them, and that the children were a group of first-year students he tutored every Saturday morning. Remus was standing, tall and brave, against the Death Eaters, but it was obvious he wouldn't be able to hold both of them back for much longer.

Sirius started toward Remus, but then he heard a shout from his right. James was clutching his side in pain, and even from this distance Sirius could see the dark stain spreading over his clothes. Lily was trying to move in front of him, but James was fighting her, trying to continue standing against the Death Eaters.

Sirius froze.

Remus needed him, there was absolutely no doubt about that. He had one minute, maybe, before the Death Eaters stopped playing with him and finished him off. But James needed him, too. The other students were too busy holding off the swarm of Death Eaters to concern themselves over one injured student, and knowing James, he would continue to fight in the front line until he passed out or died, whichever came first.

Sirius' entire body trembled as he stood in place, unable to move one direction or the other.

It was Peter who came to his rescue. The young man had slowed his jog when he noticed Sirius no longer with him, glancing around at what could have drawn Sirius' attention away from James and the battle. With a shout Peter pushed past Sirius, shoving him at James even as he started off to Remus. “Go!” Peter shouted. “You know the healing spells, you idiot! Go get Prongs! I've got Moony!”

With that, Sirius was off, racing across the open grass and toward James. He didn't even look over his shoulder at Remus and Peter, finding himself having to just _trust_ Peter for the first time in his life. He didn't like it, and he kind of felt like stopping and throwing up from worry and fear, but somehow his legs kept propelling him forward, and he found himself within meters of the nearest Death Eater in moments.

Flinging his arm out, Sirius cast three spells in quick succession. The first was a band of stupefying spells that swept out from him and over the line of Death Eaters confronting the Hogwarts students. Caught in the shock wave of the spell a dozen or more Death Eaters fell, wands flying from their hands as they braced themselves for the impact or clutched themselves in pain. Even those that didn't fall stumbled, causing an abrupt lull in spells being cast at the Hogwarts students. The next spell Sirius cast was a Patronus, which he sent flying out in the general direction of Hogwarts castle. He didn't know if anyone had sent one yet, but he knew there was no way that a bunch of students was capable of handling this situation for much longer. They needed any help they could, and as quick as they could. Finally, as Sirius raced past the line of Death Eaters and toward the students, he cast a shield spell behind him, exerting himself past the point of exhaustion to keep it up.

“Evans!” he shouted, as he slid to a stop at James' side. “Get your wands connected! The sixth and seventh years should all know the shield spell. It's exponential if you connect!”

Lily nodded her understanding of Sirius' panted instructions. She began to race around, touching the end of her wand to the other students' and barking quick explanations and instructions as they did. Soon enough, a wavy shield was beginning to rise around them, allowing Sirius to drop his own, rapidly faltering, shield. “James, you fucking idiot,” Sirius grumbled as he poked and prodded at James' side.

Kneeling on the ground, James groaned, trying to clutch at his side himself. “”s fine, Padfoot. Move. I need... need to...”

Sirius grabbed James as he swooned, nudging him down gently until James was lying on his back on the ground. His face was pale, but Sirius wasn't scared – not yet at least. He had seen Remus look approximately a dozen times worse than James did right now and still pull out alright. Sirius swallowed down the thought that Remus had always been in the Hospital Wing under Madam Pomfrey's watchful eye as he went to work on James.

When he peeled up James' shirt, he half-expected James to make some poofter quip. But the young man was staring resolutely at the sky, tears in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. His chest rose and fell rapidly as Sirius cleared blood away from the wound with as gentle a scourgify as he could manage.

The wound was bad, it was true. There was a large hunk of skin missing from James' side, about the area of two hands. But it appeared to only be about half a centimeter deep: no vital organs were hit, no bones broken, not even any extensive muscle damage. The most critical factor of the wound was the sheer amount of blood James was losing, which Sirius set to work trying to fix.

The wound reminded Sirius of a rather nasty flaying spell he had once read about in his father's library. James had just been grazed by it, thank Merlin; otherwise all the skin would have been ripped from his body in possibly the top three most gruesome deaths Sirius could imagine. He swallowed down the nausea that rose in his gullet at the thought and tried his best to remember the counter-spell. One came to mind: Sirius recalled it being used on gashes, not stripped flesh. But he hoped the end result would be the same.

“Alright, Prongs. Clench your teeth.”

Sirius glanced at James' face, satisfied that James was ready when he squeezed his eyes shut. Just as he was about to cast the spell, however, James right hand fumbled down, reaching for Sirius' arm and gripping it tightly. Sirius shrugged the hand off, only to grip it in his left, squeezing tight. James squeezed back, hard enough that Sirius felt his bones shift and groan.

Carefully he aimed his wand at the wound, and concentrating his hardest on the proper motion and pronunciation, incanted: “Vulnera sanentur”.

To his immense relief, James skin began to knit back together before his very eyes, regrowing until the large swatch of skin was back again – pinkish and irritated from the regrowth, but _there_.

James shouted, bolting upright as he scrambled to look down at his side. Their hands dropped from each other as James looked, patting at the tender skin with a huge sigh of relief. Sirius noted that James' color had come back to his cheeks, and breathed again. So his blood had replenished properly, then.

Sirius found himself being pulled into a fierce hug from James, there on the muddy ground in the middle of an impromptu battlefield. He hugged back, letting relief wash over him and ignoring the ongoing battle that raged around them. “Thanks, mate. Holy dragon fire, mate. Thank you.” James pulled back, grin faltering as he glanced around. “Where's Wormtail? And Moony? I saw Pete when I was trying to get the sprogs off the train.”

Sirius' face fell, blood rushing out of it as fast as it had rushed back into James' body. He spun around, trying to stumble to his feet and succeeding only in falling sideways as exhaustion started to catch up with him. “Remus!” he gasped, eyes darting frantically past the Death Eaters as he tried to spot them. “I... I had to... you were hurt, and Pete said he'd...”

James' arm wrapped around Sirius' shoulder, whether in comfort or to keep him from running off and doing something stupid, Sirius didn't know. “I'm sure he's fine,” James said, though his voice sounded anything but. “Wormtail and Moony together can handle themselves, mate. They'll be okay.”

Sirius was shaking all over, legs and hands and entire body trembling uncontrollably. He couldn't see Remus. He couldn't. Not through all the spells and shields and Death Eaters and... if he couldn't see him, was it because he wasn't standing? Was Remus lying dead in this field, this nowhere place as they were all just trying to go home for their last summer before adulthood?

Just as Sirius was about to do something stupid, James or no, a shout filled the air. A flurry of activity took place among the Death Eaters as their spells stopped, some message moving rapidly through their ranks. In a moment they all started disapperating, robes swirling around them as they turned and left. In the next moment, the field was quiet, and they were gone.

Sirius scrambled from James' grasp even as the other boy shouted for him to wait, that it might be a trick. As he flung himself onto the other side of the shield, entire being focused on finding Remus amongst the wounded and battle-weary out in the field, he noticed a coalition of adults swarming in from the direction of the patronus he had sent. At their head was a frightening-looking man that Sirius recognized as an Auror. Dumbledore was with them as well, face set like stone a few steps behind the short, fierce looking man.

“Everyone stay where you are!” the man boomed, spell amplifying his voice. “We've got healers here, so just wait as we sort this blasted mess out.”

Never one to give a rat's tit about authority, Sirius continued to race off in the direction he last saw Remus. As he crested a small hill, Sirius caught sight of the students Remus had been protecting huddled together in a circle, some of them crying. Peter was squatting over something on the ground and Remus... Sirius sobbed as he stumbled closer. Remus was the thing that Peter was crouched over.

“Remus!” Sirius cried, falling to his knees next to Peter.

Peter was holding onto him in an instant, firing off reassurances as quickly as his mouth could form the words. “He's fine, Pads. He's fine. Stupefying spell, knocked out cold. But he'll come around.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius breathed. Bending down, he wrapped Remus up in his arms, peppering his boyfriend's unconscious face with kisses as he rocked him back and forth on the ground. “Wake up, Remus. Please. Just a minute. I just need to see you.”

When a soft groan fell from Remus' lips, Sirius could have died a happy man. “Pads?” he groaned, shoving his face weakly against Sirius' shirt. “Stop rocking. Make me sick.”

With a laugh Sirius pulled Remus closer, peppering even more kisses all over his hair, forehead, nose, eyes, and cheeks. Coming to a little more, Remus reached an arm up and wrapped it around Sirius' neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Sirius could barely close his mouth around Remus': he was laughing and crying all at once, and just couldn't manage the coordination for all of that simultaneously.

“Merlin, Remus,” Sirius whispered as they pulled away. “I couldn't do it,” he admitted, all his insecurities catching up with him at once. “I couldn't choose between you and James. I saw you both in trouble, and I just... I froze. I couldn't _move_ , I couldn't _think_ , I couldn't pick which one of you I should go to!” Tears flowed down Sirius' cheeks as he poured his fears out to Remus. He pressed his face to Remus' cheek, rubbing against the lightly scarred skin as he reassured himself over and over again that Remus was _there_ , and _alive_ , and _safe_.

Peter cut in, cuffing Sirius lightly on the arm. “That's what family's for, Sirius.” As Sirius glanced away from Remus at last and over to Peter, he caught sight of James picking his way over to them. Peter continued: “When we're all together, looking out for each other, you don't need to choose. You and I could split James and Remus up between us, and if something ever happens to us, Remus and James can return the favor.” Peter caught sight of James now, and he spoke directly to him. “That's why it's never a choice, you know: not for Sirius between you and Remus. Because we're all in this together. And as long as we've got that,” Peter shrugged matter-of-factly as he turned back to Remus and Sirius, “you never have to choose.”

“Bloody hell, Pete,” Sirius croaked, taking one hand away from Remus and clasping Peter on the shoulder with it. “That might be the most beautiful thing I've ever heard you say.”

“What have we got here?” All four Marauders' heads whipped up at the booming voice. Sirius found himself staring straight up into the face of the ugly Auror who seemed to be in charge earlier. With a shock Sirius realized he was missing an eye, and had replaced it instead with one that roved around in its makeshift socket, constantly scanning every direction. “Come on,” he said brusquely, pointing at Remus. “I'm Alastor Moody, Auror with the Ministry of Magic. Where are you injured?”

Gingerly Remus pushed himself away from Sirius, sitting up under his own power. “Just a stunning spell, sir. I'm fine now.”

Sirius turned and pointed at James. “I think he was grazed with a flaying curse. I healed it up, but you should probably check.”

Moody's magic eye stopped for a moment on Sirius, seeming to examine him closely. It made Sirius blood chill in his veins. Creepy.

“You're one of those Blacks, aren't you?” he wondered.

Reluctantly Sirius nodded. “Sirius Black. But Mum disowned me last year. I live with the Potters, now.”

Moody barked out a laugh as he turned to James, gesturing impatiently for him to show him his injury. Obediently James lifted his shirt, wincing as Moody poked and prodded the raw patch of skin with little tenderness. “Black sheep of the Black's aren't you? I know your cousin Andromeda. Looks like every once in a while your poisoned bloodline manages to pump out a good seed.” He nodded as he backed away from James, turning back to Sirius. “Impressive, Black. Not many seventh years can perform a satisfactory sanentur, much less in the midst of battle.”

“Sixth year,” Sirius corrected him. “Well, going into seventh, now.”

Moody whistled low. “Good man. I'll make sure I keep my eye on you and your friends.” Moody tapped at his roving eye, grinning madly as the boys stared up at it nervously. “Might be seeing you in auror training in a year.” With that, Moody moved away from the group and onto the next injured students.

As Moody stomped away, Sirius turned back to James. “You hear that?” he bragged. “Fixed you up right good 'in the midst of battle'. Reckons I'll be an auror, in a year!”

James laughed, then winced and grabbed at his side. “Yeah, well,” he grumbled, “Wasn't like I was lying back doing nothing. Where were you that whole time?”

Sirius' eyes widened as he remembered Bellatrix on the train. “One word: Bellatrix.” The other boys gasped, Remus reaching out and squeezing Sirius' arm in comfort.

“Fucking hell,” James breathed. “So all that we've been hearing about her and old Voldie, you think it's...”

“Oh, I _know_ it's...” Sirius lifted his eyebrows significantly. “We had a nice little chat while she was trying to kill me, and she 'fessed up to the whole affair.”

“You know Mum and Dad are going to go mental when word gets back to them about that,” James pointed out to Sirius.

For just a moment, Sirius was left speechless as James chattered away about Mum and Dad. _Their_ mum and dad. He looked over at Remus, who still had his hand wrapped around Sirius' arm and was smiling up at James as he spoke. Then he turned back to James, who wasn't even sparing a glance for Remus' hand on Sirius' arm.

Just to make sure, Sirius pulled Remus closer to him, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a kiss to his neck. Remus leaned back to him without seeming to even think about it, exhaustion making every action of the boy’s automatic and unconsidered. James just kept right on talking, waving his arms wildly as he gestured back to the main group of students. “And Lily! She was _brilliant_ , wasn't she? A right warrior princess, like something out of Vergil.”

Peter snorted, cracking his elbows with a lazy stretch. “And I suppose you're Aeneas, right?”

“Oi!” James puffed up his chest as he grinned at Peter. “And why not?” He threw a hand over at Remus and Sirius. “And you two lovebirds can be Achilles and Patroclus.”

Sirius frowned against Remus' neck, mock-considering this. “I suppose I get to be Achilles, yeah?”

Remus giggled at his front, leaning his head back as he tried to look at Sirius. “Makes sense. You certainly throw tantrums like he does.”

“Oi!” Sirius nipped at Remus earlobe, causing Remus to pull away with a giggle. Casting a surreptitious glance at James, Sirius was relieved to see him do nothing more than scrunch up his face and throw his hands up with a friendly sort of exasperation. As Sirius pulled Remus back tight against him and quieted his squirming with a crushing grip, he found himself more truly relaxed than he had been in months. There might be a war brewing, and his entire family might be on the wrong side of it, but they weren't the family that mattered, anyway. The three people that mattered most to him were right here, ready to stand beside him through anything. Really, truly, through anything.


End file.
